Finding Four Years
by Belle Vita
Summary: Kate thinks forgetting four years of her life after an accident is punishment enough, but adding a new husband, an unknown profession and a whole new life? That's just cruel. Jate AU
1. This is Your Life!

This Is Your Life!

Oh God. What happened? My head feels fuzzy, full in some way, and it's all I can think about. I lie in my bed and try to stretch my legs. They feel like bricks, like I haven't moved them in days or maybe like that time I overdid it on the treadmill trying to impress a cute guy and toppled to the ground when I got off. I grope to my side, hoping to find my cell phone on the bedside table, but there _is _no bedside table. What the hell did I get myself into last night? How did I manage to move my furniture? I mean, I know it was Lucy's bachelorette party and I was probably nursing my pathetic love life over a margarita (or eight), but I feel like I got run over by a truck! A big one, like the kind on the highway that have those 'oversize load' signs attached to the back.

I can't bear to open my eyes because I can already sense the bright light coming from the window. That won't feel good. Any maybe I don't want to see my bedroom because I haven't bothered to clean it for awhile. The floor is the biggest shelf in the house, I remind myself. Everyone should know that! My head pounds and I grimace. I think again, like many times before, that I'll never drink again. Ever. Of course, I already dismiss this thought. The next time I decide to feel sorry for myself, I'll end up right back here, feeling exactly like this, and I'll make the same promise to myself.

I pop open my eyes, and even that takes effort, as if they were sealed shut. I think I'm dreaming, because what I see is not my small (but rent-controlled!) New York aparment. I'm in the hospital. The freaking hospital! Lucy is going to pay for this, for not cutting me off. I probably have alcohol poisoning, and they probably had to pump my stomach while my friends waited nervously!

There's an IV in my arm and I suddenly become nauseous at the sight. Maybe I'm in the wrong profession, then, because fixing up animals I've certainly seen worse. I mean, I'm not _really _a vet, just a tech, but I will be soon. Really soon, actually! Once I get rid of this hangover and get out of the hospital, that is.

Just then a nurse walks in, closing the door behind her. Finally, a saving grace! She's a bit scraggly looking and has a frown on her face that looks like it's been permanently plastered there, but she'll do. "Oh, hello," she says before I can speak, but I don't miss the initial wideness of her eyes. "Lovely day to wake up, isn't it?" She laughs lightly, but I just feel uncomfortable.

I try to talk but my voice won't come out. I croak and my throat hurts, and I must sound like I'm dying, if I'm not already dead. "I feel horrible," I finally spit out. Take that, throat. She pours water from a pitcher into an ugly pink cup and rolls a table over to set it on. Ugh. Hospital colors.

"There, have some water. It'll help. I'm Kelly. I've been taking care of you for the past week or so."

"What?" I sputter out. "No, just last night I was at my friend Lucy's bachelorette party, and I know I was drunk and all, but it was _last _night. As in yesterday," I argue with her. This lady is crazy, but instead she looks at me as if I am. "I have the invitation, it's in my purse. I'll show you." I smirk outwardly and do a victory lap in my mind, because really, they're the only type of laps I do these days.

"Kate, your bags are being stored somewhere else for safekeeping. Let me sort out where they are and I'll bring them to you." She leaves and I play with the controls on my bed, sitting up in one way or another, even if my body won't let me. What could have happened that I've been in the hospital for a week and can't remember any of it? Did I get drugged? I saw a story about that on Dateline one night! I _feel _like I've been drugged, or what I think it would feel like, anyway.

'Kelly' returns a few minutes later, smiling widely and holding two bags up for show. Uh, lady, those are _not _mine.

"Here you are," she tells me, setting the bags on the table with the water cup.

"I think you're confused. Those aren't mine." I point to them, and want to get sarcastic with her.

"Of course they are," Kelly says happily. "Your wallet is just inside."

I take her advice and dig through the bag, eventually pulling out an unfamiliar, large, wallet. I flip it open, and sure enough, there's my driver's license. The picture staring back at me is me, but I look _different. _Older, I don't know. I never thought I was photogenic, but that cannot be me! This looked completely different last night...

Then I look at the name. Katherine Shephard. WHAT? I pull all of the cards out of the wallet and they all have the same name printed on them.

"No, no, no," I mumble, rubbing my hands over my face. I must be going crazy, or I've forgotten how to read. Maybe that's it. Maybe once I'm out of here, I'll look at that license, and that wallet, and those bags and they'll look the same as they did last night. "These aren't mine, I already told you!"

Kelly looks surprised. "Dear, what do you mean they're not yours? See right here?" She points to a tape label on the larger, clear bag she'd pulled the other two from. "Katherine Shephard. That's you." Her calmness is unnerving and she's driving me crazy.

"No, my last name is Austen. Kate Austen. This is all some horrible mistake."

"Kate," she asks me slowly, standing by my bed. "What do you remember?"

I roll my eyes at her. She's terribly slow and redundant- how did she ever become a nurse? "I already told you- I went to my best friend Lucy's bachelorette party last night- she's getting married to Ted, who I don't really like, but she won't listen, and I must have gotten too drunk, and I ended up here." I let out a long breath.

Kelly looks at me, but hey-what's the worst that could've happened?

She eyes me again, and it looks like she's deliberating whether or not to tell me the truth. "You weren't at a bachelorette party last night, Kate. Eight days ago you were brought in after getting in a bad car accident. You've been in a coma until this morning."

Kelly has floored me. This can't be real. None of it. "No..." I start, but slow nurse Kelly cuts me off again. She's annoying. I don't like her.

She looks at me skeptically. "Forgive me if this is an obvious question, but could you tell me what year it is?"

If I didn't like her before, now I _really _don't. There she goes, insulting my intelligence again. "2004."

Her eyebrows raise. "And how old are you?"

"Twenty-five. Anything else?" This time my sarcasm comes through.

"Kate, I'm not sure exactly what's going on with you, but I'm going to page your doctor in so he can do some more tests." Kelly moves for the door, but I yell out, as best as I can with my still scratchy voice, stopping her.

"Wait! Just tell me what's wrong. You look like you know," I point out.

"I can't tell you anything for sure, Kate. And I know this is going to sound crazy, and I'm not trying to overwhelm you, but-"

"But what?"

"But it's 2008, not 2004, and you're twenty-nine, not twenty-five." Again, she floors me, but this time I believe her. No one would play this cruel of a trick.

"How could this happen? I don't understand what's going on..."

Kelly suddenly turns sympathetic. "From what I can put together, you remember all of your life, until your friend's bachelorette party four years ago."

"I can't remember that space in between? How can I forget four years of my life?"

"I'm not sure, dear."

"I'm twenty-nine," I say out loud. "I'm kind of..._ old._"

Kelly throws me a quizzical glance. She must have at least twenty years on me.

"Err, you know what I mean."

I can't wrap my head around this. I got into a car accident, and now I have amnesia? How cliché is that?

"I'm going to page your doctor but before I go do you have any more questions?"

I have too many. Questions that Kelly couldn't possibly know the answers to. So I've finished vet school by now? I'm an actual, practicing, vet? Do I still live in my tiny apartment? Of course I don't, not if I'm making the big bucks! Am I even _in _New York City anymore? But then I remember pulling those credits cards out of the wallet that is apparently mine and seeing the name on all of them. Kate Shephard. Holy hell, I have a husband? I have a husband! It's the only question I can possibly ask her.

"So I'm Kate _Shephard_? As in I'm married to 'Blank' Shephard?"

"Yes," Kelly smiles back at me. "Your husband has visited you a lot. Kind of comes with his job."

I don't know what the hell she's talking about, and it must show. "I'm sorry, dear, I know I'm confusing you. Your husband, Dr. Shephard- works here. So he's been around a lot, waiting for you to wake up. He'll be extremely happy to hear about this."

I married myself a doctor? I have some secret life that I know nothing about waiting for me. It's hardly a relief. I'm twenty-five, no wait, twenty-nine. I can't be married! I never thought I would take the plunge... Kelly can see the panic in my eyes. This man, who is apparently my husband, is going to walk into this room, probably any minute, and I don't even know how we met, how long we've been together, and oh God, what does he look like? Hell, I don't even know his _name_.

"What's he like?" I find myself asking her. Kelly has now become my ally.

"Jack? He's... I can see why you married him."

Yeah, Kelly, maybe you can, but _I _have no idea why I married him! Jack. I married Jack Shephard. Whoever that is.

Well, shit. I'm more confused than I thought I was.


	2. The Pretender

So I'm stuck at home while there's a blizzard happening outside. I'm not even exaggerating... sadly. So here you are, getting an update when I should be studying for my finals! This chapter is a continuation of Kate freaking out about her unknown life, and will she meet Jack? Oh, and her 'diagnosis'- a quick google search turned up three forms of amnesia, and 'retrograde' seemed to fit the bill best, so take that for what it's worth, I suppose. There's a little less humor thrown in there this time- it's really beginning to sink in to her what her reality is. Please review if you'd be so kind! The feedback last chapter was awesome and since it's early on in the story I'd love to hear ideas, your likes and dislikes, favorite parts, etc.

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The Pretender 

Crap. I'm about to meet my husband. I glance down at the thin gown I'm wearing and suddenly feel self conscious. But then again, he's seen me all sorts of naked, hasn't he? I wonder... well, never mind. That's the last thing I need to be thinking about right now. I remember all the types of guys I've gone out with in the past (or most of them... who knows who I dated after Jeff and before Jack), and I hope to God he isn't like any of them.

Jack. That's a good name, right? Normal? I have all kinds of questions about him, about why I apparently liked him enough to marry him. How long have we been married? It's overwhelming to be missing a chunk of your life, especially when how I've been living for the past few years is drastically different than beforehand, from what I remember. I hear the handle on the door twist- shit. I wish I knew what I looked like, but judging how I feel, maybe I'm better off not knowing.

I pull the covers up in embarrassment, but I really just want to pull them over my head and pretend I'm not there, that maybe if I hold them there long enough I'll wake up and realize none of this happened. A man enters and shares a small smile with me. He's kind of short, and his face looks a bit scrunched together. I hope that's not him. I let out an audible sigh when I read his name tag, but immediately feel like a shallow little bitch. Maybe Jack looks like this, or something similar, and I fell in love with him because of his good heart or shining personality. Or maybe I really _am_ shallow and married him for his money? I don't know what kind of person I am now- I'm stuck in this person I'm _supposed _to be.

Oh, who am I kidding? I still want Jack to be gorgeous, and tall, and charming.

Dr. Reyes, his name tag reads. He's on the young side, probably in his mid thirties. Young for a doctor, anyway. "Kate," he smiles warmly at me, settling his hand on the rail of my bed. "I'm so happy you're awake, we've all been really worried about you." He looks at me expectantly, like I'm supposed to know him. I already hate this.

So I say nothing, until his eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Uh," I stutter, "Maybe you should look at my chart," I tell him quietly. He's in for quite a surprise. Dr. Reyes nods at me and pulls the chart from the bin on the wall. He studies it for a few minutes, and I interpret his facial expressions in return. If he notices anything that shocks him, he hides it well. Damn.

"Retrograde amnesia," he somewhat mutters then looks up at me. I notice that maybe his face isn't as scrunched together as I thought. He has nice eyes. "Has anyone really explained all of this to you?"

I shake my head fiercely. I hadn't realized how frustrated I was until now. I know nothing about my life, let alone my medical diagnosis. "No... all I know is that I can't remember four years of my life, and I have no idea what's going on, or what's happened to my family and my friends, and apparently I'm married and I don't know him either-"

"Kate," he interrupts me, patting my arm, and I want to tell him to stop touching me. "I know this is all confusing and that you're probably angry. You have every right to be, but all of these things will be explained in time."

Bullshit. He has no clue what's happening. He has no idea what it feels like. Tonight, after he's done saving lives, he'll go home, probably to his perfect trophy wife and his well behaved children and not miss a beat. I call him on it. "I know you're just trying to be nice, but really, you have no idea how I feel."

I've definitely intimidated him, as he stares back at me, not sure what to say. Good, I've still got that part of me. I've never been one to let people walk all over me or tell me how I'm supposed to feel. "So what does all this mean? Am I going to be like this forever?"

I cross my fingers under the sheets. Please let him tell me I this won't last forever, that someday I'll wake up and remember everything and everyone.

"I'll admit that your case is a bit peculiar. Retrograde amnesia usually forms after a head trauma, which is what happened in your car accident, and what most likely triggered your memory loss. But patients normally don't experience such a large time frame of memory loss- usually it effects the short term memory, up to a few months beforehand. So, in your case, missing, what, four years of your life? That's very unusual."

God, where did this guy go to medical school? He sure did a lot to reassure me. He sees the panic in my eyes. "However," he continues, "With this form of amnesia the effects do tend to improve over time."

Maybe he should've told me that first.

"So I'll remember everything? I just have to wait for it to happen?" Suddenly I'm very happy. Still scared shitless, but the idea that I'll eventually remember my life and put the pieces together is very consoling.

He hesitates. That's not good. Doctor's aren't supposed to hesitate. He's trying to think of a way to say something I don't want to hear. "Well... not necessarily. Patients don't always remember everything, or everyone, but yes, they almost always gain part of their missing memories back." His eyes bore into mine, and this time they're actually a bit comforting. "Just give it time, Kate," Dr. Reyes smiles at me. Putting the chart back in the bin, he turns to me again. "Well, if you don't have any more questions I think I'll just give you some privacy."

"Wait," I call out to him. "So do I know you or something? I mean, am I supposed to know you? Or do you know Jack?"

"Yes, Kate, I know you and your husband. Pretty well I'd say. Maybe he'll show you some pictures of our vacation we took together last summer? Two weeks in the south of France. I'm John, by the way," he tells me and it's extremely forced and awkward. He opens the door of the private room and I realize that I've just met the first person I know from these four blank years. "Tell them to page me if you need anything."

"Uh, does Jack know- does he know that I'm awake?"

"I suspect he does. I'll fill him in on everything though, before he comes to see you." I smile as gratefully towards him as I can, but it's so unsettling to absorb all this. "Kate," he says, this time in a personal, nonclinical tone, "Don't worry. You and Jack are great together." Dr. Reyes, or John, whatever I'm supposed to call him, leaves, and I can't take it anymore. I dig through the unfamiliar black bag and pull out what I can only assume is my cell phone. They've changed, even in just a few years. I don't really know how to use it, but I eventually figure out how to send a text message, and send one to Lucy. She better get over here, and quick.

Getting onto my feet is horrible, like I haven't moved for a year. My legs are stiff and wobbly, and it takes me a while to stabilize myself enough to let go of the bed railing. I shuffle to the bathroom, but get tugged back when my IV pulls on my arm. Ouch. I go back and roll the IV stand behind me, thankful that no one is behind me to get a wide open view of my ass. Would it really be too much of a hassle to make gowns with backs? Seriously.

Then I look down at my shaky legs. Gross! I obviously haven't shaved in awhile. How embarrassing, but I'll forgive myself this once, since I was in a coma and all. Is this going to be my excuse for life now? I can already picture it: 'Honey, did you remember to buy the ice cream I asked for?' 'No! I was in a coma! God, what do you expect from me?!'

The light in the small bathroom is already on, and I squeeze my eyes shut tightly once I'm there. Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe I shouldn't look. I already saw my license picture, and I do look different.

When I finally look, it's not as shocking as I anticipated. I look different... more mature somehow, but I'm not sure if that's all that's changed. My skin has abrasions all over it, but they don't stop me from noticing that I basically look the same. A little older, I guess, but I don't look old. Thank God. I was going to be mighty pissed if I couldn't remember four years of my youth and then woke up looking forty. I shut the door, because somehow it makes me feel alone, and that's what I want to be. It's strange, because I thought that I'd want all the answers, that I'd want to meet anyone who could tell me anything about my life. I'm not ready for it, I decide.

I splash water on my face and I almost feel like a new person. I guess I am already, though. I'm a completely new person, but everyone is going to expect me to be the same. How am I supposed to deal with that? Looking up again I decide I don't look half bad for being in a coma, and I'm starting to feel relatively normal, if that's possible. I hear my door click open, and I panic. Who is it?

"Kate?" I hear a male voice call out, but I know it's not Dr. Reyes. Well shit, what if that's him? What if it's Jack? I'm sitting on the bathroom counter, petrified to make a sound. I'm not ready to meet him, to talk about our life, and how many kids we want. Oh God, what if I have kids? What if I have children I don't even know?

"Kate are you in there?" the voice calls again, this time right outside the bathroom door. All he'd have to do is open it to find me, so I decide to reveal myself. I straighten my gown, feeling ridiculous. It's not as if I can avoid him forever. I open the door slowly to find a man smiling shyly at me.

Oh Jesus. I picked a good one. He's gorgeous, and tall, and all that I'd hoped for, appearance wise anyway. I look at his name tag and it reads Dr. Shephard. So this is my husband. He has short brown hair and these deep brown eyes, and somehow makes the doctor's coat work. I'm proud of myself!

"Umm. Hi," I say. He makes me nervous, his strong face looking back at mine.

"Hi," he tells me and breaks into a small smile. It's infectious, and I smile even though I shouldn't. I have too many questions.

I know he isn't trying to make me uncomfortable, but suddenly he's pulling me into his arms and wrapping me tight in them, resting his chin on my shoulder. I hadn't realized he was quite this tall, as he's bending his knees, and during this moment when I should be thankful to have such a caring husband, all I can think about is the fact that he can probably see my ass from his place over my shoulder.

And just as suddenly, he lets go. "Sorry," he mumbles, and a blush creeps to his cheeks. "How are you feeling? Uh, John told me everything. I mean, are you okay?"

I don't answer him, because I'm fascinated with the man standing in front of me, who I'm supposed to know so well, who I'm supposed to love, and cherish, and depend on. His wedding ring shines on his finger and I wonder what mine looks like.

"So you're Jack." He laughs lightly at this and I decide I like it, that it suits him.

"And you're Kate, my beautiful wife." Jack smiles at me and I can tell he wants things back to the way they were. I would too, if I knew what they were. I'm backed up against the wall and he stands in front of me, giving me some space when he realizes I'm uncomfortable.

"Sorry," I blush. "I'm just- this is a lot for me to deal with."

"Take as much time as you need," he tells me, and I can't help but think he's one of the nicest men I've met. Should I be thinking this already? He sits in the armchair in the corner of the room, elbows on his knees. "Did the nurse tell you they're discharging you tonight?"

"Already?" I blurt out. I've been in a coma! A coma! And they're just going to let me go home and be on my way?

"Well," he starts, mildly amused by my outburst, "Other than the uh... amnesia, there's nothing medically wrong with you. You were lucky," he points out.

Lucky? I want to laugh in his face. If I had any luck at all, I wouldn't be in this situation. He seems to know what I'm thinking.

"You know what I mean. Lucky in the sense that there's not... more to worry about, I don't know." He sighs and puts his head in his hands "This isn't coming out right."

All I can think about is leaving this hospital. I'm going to go 'home' with this man I don't even know. Suddenly I feel like I was planted back to third grade, when I played house with my friends and we pretended to have husbands and families and friends... I'm just going to be pretending. It's going to hit me hard, I know, when I go back to the place that's supposed to be my home, a place that is supposed to be comforting, but will be filled with strange things, strange ideas that aren't mine, but somehow were. I just can't remember them.


	3. Better Off Now?

Done with my insane finals, have my life back! What a rough few weeks!I always feel like I won't make it out alive, but somehow I always manage. Updates should be coming a bit more frequently now- I'm on break for the next week or so, but I plan on spending some time with my family since I hardly see them! I'ma bit stuck on my other story, so that's why I've been updating this one and not the other. And... thank you so much for your nice reviews! I can't believe that I've gotten 40 for 2 chapters- they're so nice and extremely motivating, but my life doesn't seem to care enough to let me write sometimes! Anyway, enjoy this chapter! Jack tells Kate a bit about their past, and I feel like the humor is a bit less in this chapter, but there will be plenty of time for that later:)

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Better Off Now? 

They've given me all my things back by now, though I only recognize a few- the same brand of chap stick I've always used, a little compact mirror I've had for most of my adulthood. But the rest of it- it's all new and doesn't feel as if it belongs to me. Finally I'm dressed in my clothes, an outfit that Jack brought by earlier.

Speaking of Jack, here he comes again. I've noticed that he gives the same shy, almost bashful smile every time he sees me, as if he's not supposed to be happy to see me. But he is. I'm almost happy to see him too. And by happy, maybe I mean scared?

"Hey," he tells me, sitting by me on the bed but still giving me some space. There's some kind of awkward space between us that I'm fighting to get past with everything I've got. For some reason I feel like I should let him in, let him know how overwhelmed I'm feeling, but he must already know.

"So," he sighs, "Are you ready for all this?" He smiles at me again and looks straight at me. Maybe getting lost in his warm brown eyes for the rest of my life wouldn't be such a bad thing. Well, looking at any part of him for the rest of my life probably wouldn't be so bad, either. But- when he looks back, who will he see- the Kate that he married or someone completely different?

I don't say anything and my eyes are starting to water again. I wish I could control it. Jack doesn't say anything either, just rubs a hand soothingly up and down my arm. Surprisingly, it helps.

"I'm sorry," I tell him, burying my face in my hands. "I guess I just don't know what to think about all of this."

His large palm reaches over and takes my handbag from my clutches. He digs through my wallet until he pulls out a picture. It's of the two of us. We look sunburned, but happy. I look happy.

"This was..." he starts, pausing in thought, "Two summers ago, I think. The Hamptons."

I finally get my location answer. We must still be in New York, or somewhere near. I still can't say anything and I'm not sure if it's because I can't think of what to ask, or if I don't want to know. I'm still hoping that by some sort of miracle, I'll wake up and realize none of this is true, but of course I know it is.

I stand up, hoping to signal that I'm as ready to go as I'll ever be. I don't want to talk about it. "I called your mom," Jack tells me, gauging my reaction, "She's going to stop by the house later if you're up for it." Relief. I was so busy thinking of no one but myself that I'd forgotten about my family and my friends- my mom, my cousins, my best friends, even Jack. He's family too. Suddenly, I realize, as we're shuffling out of the hospital, that this must be just as hard on him.

I can't remember four years of my life, but _he _can. He'll remember how we kiss, our inside jokes, the things I do that make him tick, how we fight- everything. He'll want nothing more than to have that back, and I'm not sure if I can give it to him, because what if I'm never that Kate again?

I'm following him blindly, and despite how frazzled I am I admire his stature from behind. He's tall, and muscular, and God knows I've always had a thing for guys like him. Turns out I married one! He stops and grins at me, and I blush because I feel like he's caught me, like he felt my eyes burning into his back- and whatever else I may have been appreciating.

"You know, I could drop you at your mom's place." Jack gives me a sideways glance. "If this is too much for you or if you want to see her-"

"Jack," I interrupt, sounding more confident than I actually am, "If I didn't want to go with you, I'd still be sitting in that hospital waiting for my mom to come pick me up."

I'm starting to agree more and more with Kelly, who said she could see why I married a man like Jack. He's thoughtful, and from what I can see so far, patient. And even if the thought of coexisting with an almost stranger fills me with fear and doubt and all kinds of emotions I can't seem to identify, I'm comforted by the fact I already trust him. It's me I'm worried about.

We walk out of the lobby and are greeted by an asphalt parking lot. It's pretty warm out, and he tells me that it's the sixth day of June. Damn, I missed my birthday because I was in a coma! Life is so unfair.

First his arm brushes against mine and I think it's a mistake, but then I feel his fingers grazing mine softly. He's testing the waters, and I suddenly feel like I'm in middle school again! Maybe it's too soon, maybe I should pull away and give him a condescending glance, but I decide I don't want to. Hell, I had sex with the guy (and probably a lot...), I could at least hold his hand, right? So I grasp his fingers through mine and stare straight ahead, somewhat terrified to see his reaction, though he gives my hand a squeeze. His hand is large, so I naturally look down to his feet, wondering if that saying is true...

God, I am the most shallow, and apparently sex-deprived person on this planet! I have a whole head full of worries and this is what I choose to think about?

He has a nice car, but I'm not surprised. I want to giggle when he opens my door for me and puts my bags in the back seat. I watch him drive, steady and concentrated, but I can tell his mind isn't on the road.

"So," I say, creating an awkward silence with this open ended phrase, like I expect him to fill me in on everything in one night. "What do you feel like telling me?"

He laughs, and I still love the sound of it- so different from his speaking voice, kind of boyish and innocent. "Well what do you want to know? Seems like we have a lot to talk about."

"I don't know where to start," I mumble. "I wish I could just remember everything."

"It'll happen, Kate. Maybe some day you'll laugh about this," he kids, and I don't want to tell him all of the things that have been running through my head since I woke up, because they've already caused me to laugh, and cry, and pray to whoever. I'm a mess.

He's reaching for my hand again and once he settles it on top of mine, it causes some sort of ease to course through my body, and somehow I feel like I remember doing this thousands of times with him. Maybe I just like the feeling. "Why don't you start with how we met?"

"Oh, you'll like this one," he assures me, looking into my eyes again. They seem like they're melting into mine- no wonder I fell hard for this guy. Well, you know, that and the fact he's gorgeous, and considerate, and is a doctor... "You absolutely hated me at first."

I roll my eyes. How could anyone hate Jack? "I doubt it. I was probably just playing hard to get." I smile over at him, even though I feel nervous and a little out of place. It's kind of strange to hear our beginnings, how I acted, how we met and became this couple- this identity. "Okay, so how'd it happen?"

His grin is calculated and impish and I'm beginning to believe Jack just gets a kick out of teasing me. It almost makes me feel like a regular person and not someone who needs to be treated delicately. "Well, I was doing some volunteering-"

"Of course you were," I blurt out, interrupting. Shit. I didn't mean to say that out loud, but seriously, this guy seems like a model citizen. "I mean, good for you!" He doesn't buy it.

"Anyway," he brushes my comment off, "I was delivering some immunizations to the vet clinic over on 14th-"

My vet clinic. Well, not mine, but the one I worked at! Finally I understand something, and I know exactly where I met Jack. I know exactly where I met my husband. "Do I still work there?" I ask him eagerly. God, I want to know what I've done with my life...

He chuckles. "Yeah, you could say that." What the hell is he talking about? Did Jackie quit and I was demoted to _secretary _or something?!? My reality might be worse than I think! Maybe I'm the janitor? "Kate, you co-own the place."

Scratch all of that self-doubt. Shit, I own part of a business! I must be good at this.

"With who?"

"Grace Kennedy. Do you remember her?"

Damn, and here I'd thought my life was golden. Do I remember her? Hell yes, I do. She was such a bitch all through vet school! There is no way I own a clinic with the spawn of Satan.

"Yeah," I mutter, because I'm not sure how much Jack knows. "Anyway, get on to the part about me hating you?" I'm starting to recognize the parts of the city we're driving through, and I already feel at home, even if I'm going to a completely unfamiliar place. My home- no, our home.

"I made deliveries there for a few months and you always seemed bothered when I was around, so I started talking to you more and more, just to annoy you really..."

It doesn't seem like me to be so unwelcoming. To a volunteer? A hot volunteer? Certainly not. "And then?"

"And then," he pauses, smiling to himself, "You shut the door of an exam room behind us, pinned me to the wall, and you kissed me."

No way. I can't decide if he's kidding with me or if he's being serious.

"I did not," I roll my eyes at him. "You know, just because I was in a freaking _coma _and can't remember a few years of my life doesn't mean you get to make up stories."

"You did!" he insists and his voice rises. It's cute. "You can ask Grace about it if you don't believe me." Yeah. I'll get right on that.

"And we got married eight months later."

"That's it?" I ask him. "That's kind of fast..." Shit, I never kept a boyfriend for longer than six months, but I decided to marry Jack after eight?

"We're kind of..." he dwindles off, and I think he's searching for a word, "Intense," he finishes.

By intense, does he mean madly in love, the kind where you can't keep your hands off each other, can't stop thinking about the other? But that only lasts for so long...

He parks on the street and I realize we live in Greenwich Village. He pulls the bags from the back seat as I look up at our home. It's gorgeous, and perfect, and everything I always wanted. And it's ours. The inside is even more beautiful, tastefully decorated. It looks professional, but for some reason I know that I did it.

Jack tugs on my hand and throws me a bashful smile. Suddenly, as if I already wasn't, I'm overwhelmed. A million questions are left unanswered, and they're mostly trivial things. Is Jack going to sleep on the couch? Where is the silverware drawer? Does he like my cooking? Did I ever _learn _how to cook?

I'm drawn to the mantle, where a large framed picture of the two of us sits. It's our wedding day, but I feel like I'm looking at a bridal catalog, because I don't remember picking out the man or the dress. I look beautiful and Jack is staring at me with love in his eyes.

My glance wanders to the date written in flowy script on the matte surrounding the picture. Oh no.

I can tell Jack isn't behind my anymore- that feeling of anticipation that lingers on my back when he's near is gone. I see him picking up my bags and walking down a short hallway. I can only assume he's headed to the bedroom. To our bedroom. How strange.

"Hey Jack?" I call out, and almost immediately he strides towards me, looking eager to help.

"Yeah?"

It's fitting that I chose today to wake up, as I continue to look at the picture. I'm not sure if I should acknowledge this, what I've just discovered, but I might as well.

"Happy Anniversary," I tell him quietly, and his face settles into a warm smile.

It's an anniversary in more ways than one.


	4. Checks and Balances

Checks and Balances

Okay, so maybe wondering if Jack was going to sleep on the couch wasn't such a trivial question after all. It's so awkward I want to open a window and scream down onto the streets. I'm stuck in this apartment with this man I don't know!

Seriously though, how long is it going to take?

I've rifled through my drawers several times, finding clothes I recognize, but mostly they're new. I'm kneeling in front of the dresser, mussing through the t-shirt pile. I've had some of these for such a long time. There's one with purple writing on the front, advertising for a 10k in 2006. There's no way in hell I ran that- sometimes I get tired running a few blocks to the subway! But then again, maybe I became some kind of fitness guru, and I hired a personal trainer from Bulgaria named Lars who whipped me into shape.

Maybe I've done a lot of things I never imagined I would.

I find my favorite t-shirt, one from high school. It's soft, thin, and no amount of washing seems to make it smell any different. It reminds me of my mom's house, of my childhood. Something familiar. I feel a presence behind me and realize Jack is there. I'm holding the shirt to my face and inhaling, and I must look really stupid.

"Sorry," I say, a blush creeping to my cheeks once I've turned around to face him. He stands with his hands in his jeans pockets, a small smirk on his mouth.

"I, uh, was just going to head to bed. I have an early morning tomorrow, but I took the afternoon off so we can do whatever you want. I would've taken the whole day, but-"

"It's okay," I say to him softly. In all honesty, I'm looking forward to the time alone in the apartment, so I can tear the place apart and search for every trace of my past.

"I figured it would give you some time to catch up with your mom too. So you two are going to breakfast?"

Nodding at him, I try to smile. I should be looking forward to seeing my mom, but instead I'm only nervous that she'll expect me to be someone I'm not, or that maybe she's changed. Looking around this apartment, I can see my life before the car crash was in good order. Now it's chaos, complete and utter chaos.

He's telling me about some surgery now, using a bunch of medical jargon even I have no hope of understanding. Oh God. Turn around, Kate! He's stripping his shirt off right in front of me! I manage to catch a glimpse before I pivot sharply on my foot, staring at the white closet door in front of me.

"Kate," he laughs, "Come on... we're- we're married for God's sake."

I turn back around, but now he has no pants on! How am I supposed to come up with a good retort while he's standing in front of me in his boxers? He doesn't seem at all embarrassed about this, but here I am, blushing like a virgin bride.

He has tattoos. And biceps. He's just... muscly, and... yum. And he's turning around, fiddling with his watch, then finally resting it on the nightstand. His back is more of the same, but it's a good kind of same...

"I know we're married," I stutter out, already cringing at what I'm about to say, "But I mean, I don't know you, and you only think that you know me! I don't even know me! I'm not... I'm not going to just sleep with you if that's what you're thinking-"

"Actually," he smirks at me again, "I was going to take the couch. Enjoy the bed, though," he says, seeming to enjoy my outburst. Damn that smirk.

"I don't know if I'm going to be able to sleep much tonight. I've kind of... gotten a lot of it lately if you know what I mean, and I have all this stuff on my mind..." I say, to try to lighten the mood. I mean, I basically took the longest vacation of my life, being in a coma for eight days, though those hospital bills are bound to be more than a trip to Jamaica and I didn't even get a tan out of it.

Jack looks a little put off as he takes some blankets from the linen closet and flops down on the couch, the cushy navy colored one I've already fallen in love with. Well, I certainly showed him how much I trust him! I was just going from experience- sex seems to be all guys think about. But he's right, we _are _married, and I'm not the only one who is uncomfortable with all of this. His life has changed, too.

I should stop rationalizing how much sense it makes for a wife to sleep with her husband before I get myself into trouble.

On the bookshelf in the bedroom I find a row of picture albums. These are perfect. I flip the first open to find that it isn't some fancy scrapbook, just dividers filled with pictures upon pictures. The first ten or so pages are filled with pictures of me with my friends, back when we were all single and happy about it. There's Lucy, when she went through her awful bangs stage (I told her not to do it), my friends Kris and Hallie, basically everyone from college. This book makes me happy, because I recognize everyone in it and I reminisce about our times together.

The second of the three books looks the same, black bound leather and fairly thick. Again, it seems to be filled with pictures of Lucy and I making goofy faces, and a bunch of those horrible pictures where I can just see how drunk I was, complete with glassy eyes and what I affectionately call the 'drunk smile', that grin that's too wide, too fake, and too happy to be true. I turn the page, smiling sadly, hoping to see Lucy soon. I miss her, and maybe she can help me out with all of this...

Lucy's wedding! We all look beautiful, and she and Ted look happy and in love. I'm sick of thinking that I want to remember all of this, so I continue flipping.

Wait- who _is_ that? My arms are slung around a guy with light blond hair and a medium build. I hardly recognize anyone on this page, other than Lucy and a few other acquaintances. I right away know which bar we're in, but that guy? Not so much. Okay, Lucy's bachelorette party... when exactly was it? 2004... sometime in May because she was supposed to get married on the 26th... It was exactly one week before the wedding, so May 19th.

May 19th, 2004 is the last day I remember of my life.

Shit. The date stamp on the corner of some of the pictures reads 8/23/04. I'm with some people I don't know, and Lucy. We're at Leo's, a bar we pretty much lived at through college. The rest of this album has these same people in it: Lucy, the blond guy, two girls with almost black hair, trailing long down their backs, and another guy with wavy brown hair. And oh God, there's Grace! She's in almost every picture afterwards. We appear to be the best of friends, our arms hanging around each other's shoulders, wide grins plastered on our faces. I still can't believe it. I try to see the good in everyone, but she was just such a foul person!

I can't stop staring at these pictures, but no matter how tightly I squeeze my eyes shut, I can't remember these people, or these nights. This all would be so much easier if I had any patience. I haven't even been awake for 24 hours and I'm already expecting that a simple look at some pictures would make these last four years come rushing back to me.

The third book is the last one sitting on the small shelf. It's thicker than the other two and I'm not sure how I've kept myself from sneaking a peek this whole time. It cracks when I pull the cover back, and staring back at me is a picture of me and Jack. Luckily a few of the pictures of us look to be from the same night, and one contains a time stamp. 10/4/04. Okay, so Jack told me earlier that we started dating about eight months before we were married, so that's... November? These pictures were taken when we had just gotten together!

We look obnoxiously attracted to each other, grinning and smirking at one another in a series of snaps. Jack's hair is a little longer than it is now and he's clean shaven. He looks adorable and has a boy-like quality to him. I look at a few pictures of us kissing, and I have to wonder what made me act like that in public. Sure, the pictures were taken at a bar, so maybe we loosened up with the liquor, but I've always shied away from that kind of behavior.

I married the guy, so I guess everything was different in this relationship than in every other.

It's so foreign to see myself with Jack in this way, when I've been tip-toeing around him all day today. But I know if I was looking at another couple in these pictures, I would smile and think how in love they are. Jack and I are in love, or were in love- I'm not sure which. Is it really possible to fall out of love?

The album ends with a picture of me holding up my left hand, ring finger sparkling. The darkness of the picture makes it slightly difficult to see the ring, but it looks beautiful, and I look gracefully excited and happy. My cheeks are rosy and my smile is wide and genuine. I want to remember happy times like these more than anything. I want to remember how I felt when I first kissed this man. I want to remember the exact moment when I realized I was in love with him. I want to remember the first time we told each other those three big words...

But I don't and I can't.

I'm not sure how long I've been sitting here, but long enough that I have carpet indentations on my knees and shins when I stand. I pad through the apartment, even though most of it is covered in darkness. I can hear Jack breathing lightly from the couch and I sit on the ottoman, watching him, studying his face like I haven't been able to yet. It's relaxed and burrowed slightly into the cushion below him. Like he senses me, his eyes start to flutter. Shit. I jump up from my seat and practically vault over to the other couch, pretending to dig between the cushions.

"Kate?" I hear, in his tired, sleep-strained voice, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I try to say brightly, though if the room happened to be lit he'd see my cheeks are on fire. "Just looking for, uh, my... checkbook." What a shitty excuse. I want to slap myself, but that would be a sure giveaway.

"What do you _need_ it for?" He sounds confused, and so am I.

"Umm, you know, I just want to know where it is."

I stop 'looking for the checkbook' and sit down on the couch. Jack puts his hands behind his head and rests it there, yawning.

"Sorry I woke you."

"It's okay," he tells me softly. He pauses and there's an awkward silence that makes me want to stand up and walk back to the bedroom. "You were watching me, weren't you?"

Damn. Why do I always get caught doing embarrassing things like this?

"Maybe," I flush. "I, uh, found all those pictures in the bedroom. Of when we met and stuff."

He sits up and the blankets fall from his shoulders. He's distracting me again...

"Yeah? Did they help you remember anything?" He looks hopeful, and I almost want to tell him that I remember something.

"Not so much."

"It'll come. I know it will."

Normally I hate it when people say things like this, because they don't know. But when Jack says it, I want to believe it, because he wants to believe it so much.

"So... three years, huh? Bet this has been the best anniversary yet."

He grins sheepishly. "They've all been pretty good, but this one is the best. By far."

Yeah right. I know he wants to make me feel better, but come on, I don't even remember him! We didn't go out to dinner, he didn't get laid, we didn't go out on some incredibly romantic date... Is he crazy?

"Jack... I mean, it's like living with a stranger. For both of us! I don't want to doubt this, what we had, our marriage, but how are we going to make this work?"

"Eight days ago, Kate, I wasn't even sure I'd have a wife anymore. Then you woke up. And sure, you may not remember me, or us, or your life, but we get to go through it again."

"Go through what? Because frankly, this is a fairly awkward situation. I mean, I don't even know your middle name," I tell him, because for the first time today, his complete faith is wearing on me.

He nods his head at me. "We get to fall in love again. Maybe that's cheesy, or wishful thinking, or unrealistic, but I hope to God it's true."

I want to fight with him, but maybe he's right. Maybe I'm doubting myself, him, too much.

"And Kate?" He snaps me out of my reverie. "My middle name? It's David."


	5. Just For Size

Thanks for your amazing reviews! I can't ever go a chapter withoutsaying that! All I can do is hope that you'll continue and that I'm writing something you're enjoying! In this chapter: Kate meets with her mom and her friends(?) and asks Jack a few things about himself...

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Just For Size

I don't sleep much, drifting in and out of consciousness for three or four hours before I wake with a start. Groggily, I turn towards the nightstand beside me: 9:15. Shit, my mom is going to be here in fifteen minutes. I strip the covers back and stand quickly. My body still aches as I look around the room, for a moment forgetting where I am.

I stand in front of the closet for awhile, and I have to admit that waking up to an almost entirely new wardrobe has been fun- and I don't even have to feel guilty about spending a lot of money! I dress and look back over to the bedside table- Jack's watch is gone, but there's something else shiny in it's place. It's my ring. I already know. Does he want me to wear it?

I'm sitting on the bed again, brushing over the diamonds. It's beautiful- I don't know all of the terminology, but it's exactly what I would've picked out, even if I don't remember thinking about it much before. I shouldn't try it on, and I probably shouldn't wear it. But I'm married! Shouldn't I wear the ring to prove it? I know I'm just trying to justify trying it on, as it slips on my finger easily. The diamonds look larger and stand out on my finger, and I wonder how much Jack paid for this rock. There's no doubt it's a large stone, but it's not gaudy or too flashy. It's perfect.

And, as it warms to my skin, I can't help but think it looks like it belongs there.

Yeah, I think I'll leave it on. At least until Jack gets home and I make things even more awkward than they need to be. But... why would he have left it there unless he wanted me to wear it? To taunt me? From what I know about Jack, he probably just wanted to give me the choice. I can either embrace this lifestyle head on, or fight it with everything I have. I haven't decided what to do yet. What if this life, and Jack, aren't right for me? 

I've opened most of the drawers, bypassing Jack's meager possessions in the bathroom- his razor, toothbrush, some deodorant, mouthwash, a few other random things rattling around in the drawer. Men.

After I find my makeup I decide it's almost no use trying to cover up the scratches. They'll heal in time, I guess, even if I feel like a victim out of a slasher movie. 

There are three or four tubes of mascara in the drawer, and I can't decide why I would need so many. I pick one and guide it onto my eyelashes. There's a loud knock on the door and I jump, poking my eye with the wand and grazing it on the skin above. Yeah, now I look great. I try to wipe it away quickly as I stride to the door. I'm about to twist the handle to let her in, but crap, this is my mother! Why am I so nervous to see her?

She knocks again and must be getting impatient. I open it and she beams at me, pulling me into her arms before I get the chance to say anything. I want to cough against her, and I hold my breath until she lets me go, her perfume too potent for my poor lungs. When did she start caring about things like this?

She looks different- much more cosmopolitan and put together than I'd ever imagined her. I thought she'd be the same person, with her short, scraggly blond hair, most days looking like she got dressed without a thought. But this person is dressed impeccably, her hair and makeup done to near perfection.

"Kate," she tells me softly, and it's all she really needs to say, as I see her eyes start to water. It's strange, because we've never been all that close. She's my mom, and I love her, but that's about as far as it goes. "Thank God you're back."

But the way she says this, it sounds like I've just gotten home from a long vacation, rather than the fact that I just woke up from a freaking _coma_. 

She must be able to tell that I don't want to talk about the accident, or the coma, or how I've conveniently forgotten a few years of my life. I mean, it's not like anything important happened- I didn't get married or anything like that.

"So how are you feeling?" she asks me as we reach the sidewalk. It's a beautiful day out, and at least I have that if this all goes to hell. 

"Fine," I shrug, even though I'm not. 

"So, Jack's a nice man, isn't he?" My mother smiles at me. She wants me to agree quickly, to tell her that I'm falling in love with him already. But I won't, because I still don't know how I feel.

"Yeah, he's nice," I offer. It's the best I can do. He _is _nice, I'm not making that up, but it's about all I know about the guy. He knows everything about me.

"You know, he and Rob are going out for a round of golf later this week. We should get together, too."

Rob? Who the hell is Rob? The only Rob I've ever known was the creepy maintenance guy at my job in high school.

And then suddenly, she's flashing her hand in front of me, once she realizes I don't know what she's talking about. Dear Lord. My mother got married, too. What, did we have a joint wedding? Two for one special? All I can do is gape in her direction. Maybe Rob has inspired this change in her. 

"It's been almost a year now," she tells me softly. "I know this is probably a big shock, but he's a great man and the two of you have gotten along famously. We're very happy."

No, a big shock was finding out that _I'm _married. This is more of a... mild surprise. I've always wanted her to be happy, but she never seemed to date much after she and dad split. Rob is... my stepfather! I've never had much semblance of a father, and I wonder if Rob and I are really as close as my mom's making it seem.

She tells me all about how they met, and how they married very quickly afterwards, but I find my mind wandering. We reach the little cafe we're eating breakfast at and my mom stops me before I reach to open the door.

"So I have a little surprise for you!" She looks excited, but she should know that I've never been a fan of surprises. Especially now- doesn't she think that all of _this_ was enough disruption to last me a lifetime? I roll my eyes in her direction as I weave behind her, through tables and to the back of the restaurant. 

Lucy and Grace are sitting in the back, waving at me with big smiles on their faces. Lucy! I _need _to talk to Lucy! And Grace, well, I'll have to figure that out later. How the hell did we become such good friends? 

Lucy pulls me into a hug and swings me back and forth- and I can't help but think just a few more rough movements and maybe I'll remember everything... Ever since I found out yesterday that I have amnesia, I've been tempted to bang my head against the wall, or the counter, or maybe even get into another car accident, and then I'll suddenly be back to normal.. Hey, it works on TV, maybe it works in real life, too. 

I feel like crying while I'm hugging Lucy because she's so familiar. She's constant. And I know that I should've felt the same way with my mom, but I just don't. 

Sometimes I really think I'm a horrible person.

Now it's Grace's turn for a hug, and she pulls me tight against her. I laugh awkwardly so I don't say anything stupid or offensive, but widen my eyes for Lucy to see. She laughs and must know what I'm thinking.

"Everything at the clinic is going great," Grace tells me, "But we all miss you!" She seems sincere, and I'm sure I'd miss everyone at work too, if I knew them. Oh shit. When am I supposed to be back at work? Before the accident, I was an actual licensed vet. All I have in my memory now are my days as a tech. It's not the same thing! I can't be a vet! 

Great, now I'm unemployed, too. As if losing my memory wasn't enough.

"But we understand that you can't come back just yet... Take all the time you need." 

I just can't understand what made Grace turn into this... _nice _person.

"So I know it's only been like, a day, but how's it going with Jack?" Lucy asks me, brushing her hair out of her eyes. She has bangs again. Damn, what is wrong with her? I thought she learned her lesson after the first disastrous attempt. 

"Well, you know, as good as it can be, I guess." I'm already sick of this question, and I haven't even talked to that many people since I woke up... "It's kind of awkward."

But all of the women at the table shrug at this comment, as if to say it's no big deal. "You guys will be fine. You're crazy about each other. Makes me sick sometimes," Lucy rolls her eyes in my direction. "Sometimes I think he's _too _good of a guy to be real. I know all about that," she finishes, but the last part confuses me a little.

I think Jack's too good to be real, too. Maybe he is. Maybe I'm the only person who _really_ knows him. Knew him. Whatever.

"I'm going to run to the bathroom. Lucy?" This is the best excuse ever. Women never go to the bathroom alone.

"Okay, how the hell did Grace and I become friends?" I ask her hurriedly, tugging her into the small restroom. "She's such a bitch!"

"You both were desperate for a place to live a while back. You ended up being roommates. What's the big deal, anyway?"

Okay, I love Lucy, and she's the best friend I've ever had, but sometimes I just want to rip her hair out. Did she not experience Grace at her most devilish moments?

"I don't know," I tell her, because there are probably more important things to talk about, "I just don't understand it really. Seems to be the story of my life lately."

I tilt my head back in frustration, feeling my eyes well up again. I've never been such a crybaby.

"Kate." Lucy turns on her sympathy. "Let's have a girls night, we'll go out, just you and me and I'll explain everything. Anything you want to know about the last four years, I can probably tell you."

Thank God. There's no one like a best friend to go through an exhaustive list of your triumphs and faults. She won't leave anything out, I'm sure of it.

"But for now, we've gotta get back, or they'll think we fell in."

She takes my hand and we exit the bathroom. "How are you and Ted? Wedded bliss?" I joke with her. Even if I never really liked Ted much, I never doubted Lucy's love for him.

Her smile fades and I know I've said the wrong thing. "We're uh... well, there's not much to talk about there," she tries, but I see the sadness in her eyes and the emptiness on her ring finger. Suddenly, this isn't about me.

I find myself exhausted, even from just sitting and picking at my food, chatting with my mom, Grace and Lucy. To be honest, they're kind of boring me, rambling on and on of things I have no clue about, but they try to explain along the way. They're trying, I know, but maybe _I'm _not.

I part my ways with them, claiming that I'm not feeling well and, no, I don't need a cab back to the apartment. But when they leave, I walk around aimlessly for awhile, trying to clear my head. Why is it that all I can think about is the fact that I'm married? Why does nothing, or no one else seem to matter as much to me? I suppose that's the way marriage works- your other half becomes so important to you, so consuming that other people fade away a bit. Nothing seems as real as this. 

But I'm consumed with a man I don't really know. 

The breeze feels good in the heat of the day, and as I pass a deli I look at the clock and realize Jack must be home. I'm going to be living with Jack, and I can't very well pretend that I'm not married, that he and I aren't somehow connected. I can't just tell him this isn't going to work, that it's too hard. He deserves better, and what if me and Jack together ends up being what I want?

He's moving rather gracefully through the kitchen when I get home. Huh, that's a strange word now. Home. He turns around and smiles at me, then starts striding towards me. Then he stops, as if it dawns on him that he won't be giving me whatever our standard greeting is. Talk about awkward.

"How was your day?" he opts for instead. "Your mom doing okay?"

"Yeah, she seems good. Found out she's married." Jack winces in my direction, as if he should apologize for not telling me. "Lucy and Grace were there too."

"Good, I'm glad you got to see them. Are you going out on Wednesday night together?" 

I don't know what the hell he's talking about, and Jack's able to see this pretty easily.

"Guess not, then. It was kind of your tradition. You girls would go out every Wednesday night for drinks. Probably shit talking your husbands." He grins at me. He's only trying to introduce me to what is 'normal' in my life. 

I want to know everything about this man, maybe even more than I knew before the accident, if that's possible. I guess now is as good a time as any. 

If I can't remember him, or how much I love him, then I might as well dig in and try. Maybe he's right, that we'll end up rewriting our story, that maybe we'll end up falling in love all over again.

"Hey Jack?" I ask him awhile later, once he's seated at the kitchen table, reading the paper. 

"Hmm?" he responds, sounding a bit distracted. 

"Where did you grow up?"

"LA." He looks a bit surprised that I'm asking him anything personal, anything that's not directly related to me.

"Favorite color?"

"What is this, twenty questions?"

Ha. He doesn't know what's coming. I have way more than twenty questions for him.

"Green," he finally says.

"Your parents names?"

"Margo and Christian, but my father passed away..."

Well, I didn't mean to make him feel uncomfortable. Or maybe that's just me. Oh well. Next question. 

"Any brothers or sisters?"

"No, I'm an only- You're writing this down?" he asks me, sounding exasperated, looking to the pad of paper I dug out of a drawer in the desk. 

Well duh. How else does he expect me to remember his life story?

"Yeah. Moving on. How many women have you slept with?"

"Kate!" 

I look at him across the table, and he looks so innocent, so cute, almost afraid as I list question after question.

"Come on," he finally says, standing up and reaching for my hand. My instinct is to accept it, so I do, holding it tightly with mine. My heart races, though I can't decide if it's because I'm excited or scared. Is it possible to be both at the same time?

"You're wearing your ring," he says, surprised, but happy sounding. 

I'd meant to take it off, but why mess with something that feels right? "Uh, yeah. Where're we going?" I ask him, changing the subject as he tugs me along, locking the door behind us before I can get a word in edgewise. 

Jack grins at me and squeezes my hand, before letting me drop to his side and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. It feels like we've done this thousands of times, too.

"Well how else can I expect you to fall for me?" he smirks. Jesus, he's kind of hard to read sometimes. "I'm taking you on our first date."


	6. Overthinking

So sorry for the long wait- lots of reasons but I won't get into them on here! Thanks for your reviews, glad you're all so excited for their first date! I tried to keep it on the realistic side, since he hadn't exactly planned it all out beforehand! Hope you like the end! On another note, to those of you that PMed me in the past few weeks about doing beta, shoot me another message and I'd be happy to do it.

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Overthinking

"So where'd we go on our _first_ first date?" I ask him as we stroll along on the warm day. He won't tell me where we're going, and even though I know exactly where we are, there's no way I've discovered every hole-in-the-wall place in a city bursting full of them.

"Ice skating," he tells me after a short pause. "You insisted." Jack smiles at me and pulls me along. "And in case you're wondering, you're a horrible at it. Just terrible." His face is straight but then he grins when I question him. I've figured out by now that he just likes to tease me, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it.

"You know," I start, "I've been thinking a lot about everything."

Jack chuckles. "How descriptive."

"Funny," I say, though he has a point. "I was just thinking that you could tell me whatever you want about yourself, about our life, my life, and I'd probably believe it." He smiles at me and runs a hand over his short hair. He's cute, but I don't think he knows this. "You could really make yourself into something special, Dr. Shephard."

God. I'm flirting with him. How did that happen? It's almost too easy.

He groans. "You know I hate it when you call me that," he smiles, then it fades a little, into a thoughtful glance, and there's some part of me that thinks, no- _wants _to think that I actually knew that. That just maybe I remembered my penchant for giving him nicknames.. "Actually, you don't know that. But now you do. You should add that to your list."

"Will do." I'm thinking of making a secret list about him too- one that I'll be sure he won't lay eyes on... There are some things he doesn't need to know I think about him! Not yet anyway.

"I also hate it when you call me snugglemuffins and flufferbunny just because you know how much it irritates me, how you never remember to turn off the oven, and how you always hide places and try to jump out and scare me-"

"Am I good at it?" I ask him with a laugh. It's not as weird as I'd thought it would be, learning more about our relationship, because somehow I can picture all of these things. I wish I actually remembered them, because I get the feeling they'd be happy memories.

Jack grabs my hand again. "Too good."

The first date jitters show up when he looks into my eyes and I notice the tiny gold flecks inside his. His stare is a little unnerving, but he doesn't seem to mind. My heart feels like it's about to pound out of my chest, even though we're just standing on a random sidewalk in New York City, and he's looking at me the way any husband looks at his wife.

"So where are we going?" I beg him, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. "Ice skating again?"

When he rolls his eyes playfully, I figure I've made the wrong guess. "I'm not that predictable, Kate," he tells me, shrugging to evade answering any further.

"Okay, random question." I tell him as he raises his attention to me again, arching his eyebrows in amusement. "Get used to it," I mutter. "So if I'm a vet, then why don't we have any pets? Kinda weird, right?"

"We did," he says evenly, pointing to his right when we come to an intersecting sidewalk. " A dog. Rufus. He died earlier this year. You said you weren't ready for another one yet."

"Rufus?" God, what a horrible name. Poor thing probably lost the will to live.

"That was his name at the shelter. He was pretty old and you didn't want to change it. Believe me, I tried," he smiles at me, his amusement sweeping over to me.

"Maybe we could get another sometime?" He nods in my direction. "Sure."

I've always heard that getting a pet together was sort of like having a child together. Sort of. Without the disgruntled teenage stage, without spending thousands of dollars on prom dresses and college tuition and all that.

If that's not commitment, I don't know what is. I guess I just committed. Really though, it doesn't sound as good when you're already married.

Jack stops walking and pulls the door open to a small art gallery. I definitely don't remember this place. "I met your mom here, we had our fourth date here, you and Lucy used to come here a lot..." he trails off. "I thought maybe it could spark something?"

There's something about this place that I love as soon as I step inside. It's not cold and stiff like a lot of galleries I've been to. In fact, it's almost full, and it seems like there aren't any blank spots on the white walls.

We look over the space in relative silence, until my mind is too full to concentrate on much of anything except the never ending questions that roll around up there.

"We seemed happy," I think out loud, as I see the smiling pictures of the two of us in the back of my mind.

I get a tingling feeling on my back, that feeling of presence, and I flinch when he rests his hands lightly on my sides. I can feel his breath hitting my neck lightly, and suddenly I feel like my whole body is in overdrive.

"Yeah," he tells me softly, and his unguarded tone makes me feel close to him. I imagine it's how we talk at night in bed, when neither one of us can sleep. Or maybe I just want it to be true. "The happiest."

"You're a good guy, Jack," I tell him genuinely, because he's just made me feel safe with only a few words. It's hard enough to wake up in a world you don't remember, and if I'd woken up to a man other than Jack, I don't know what I'd be doing right now. Probably freaking out even more than normal.

I feel selfish because all of this has been about me, and I've barely thought about what it must be like for Jack. I don't even know how different I am than the woman he married, and Jack's too nice to mention anything of the sort.

"This is hard on you too, huh?" I lace my free hand through his and squeeze reassuringly. "I'm sorry... if this- if I'm not what you're used to. If I'm not the same."

He finally cracks and his features soften visibly. He lets a wry smile spread over his face. "It hasn't been the easiest."

"What was I like before?"

He shrugs. "Loving, free spirited... perfect in my eyes."

Shit. Apparently all of that has changed. I guess I'm not the same perfect woman Jack is used to, though I have a hard time believing I was all that perfect in the first place. Instead, he's now married to a nutcase with amnesia. Amnesia! Come on! I still can't believe it. I'm lucky he didn't bolt through the door right when he found out that his own wife doesn't remember him.

"So in other words, you haven't changed at all," he says softly to me, and smiles at me with what I think is love in his eyes. Maybe I'm too emotional lately, but I swear I melt. This guy is _too _good.

I shoot him a doubtful smile and put my hands on my hips. "So this is all going to be as easy as you're saying? You think we'll be okay?"

It's probably the hardest question I've asked him, but he doesn't seem to think so. He's so sure of us, and right now the only thing I'm sure of is that I'm ten kinds of confused. About everything.

"Figuring out all that other stuff? That's what's going to be hard."

Once again, I want to believe him, that everything will fall into place and we'll be happy. I want to, but I'm not sure if Jack's being naïve or just has some sort of deep-rooted faith in me, in us.

This is all too heavy. It's too much to think about right now, and besides, thinking about it won't change a thing. I'll just drive myself crazy(er). We were having fun, and I had to go and ruin the mood. Way to go, Kate.

"Hey snugglemuffins," I say sarcastically, laughing at the words, and his attention snaps back to me. He should've never clued me in on this name. It has a nice ring to it, and it's pretty fun to annoy him.

"Hey now," he warns me playfully, grabbing on to my upper arm. I would react, but I'm too busy staring at a small painting on the wall. I swear I've seen it before. I know I have.

I feel Jack wrap an arm around my waist as I continue to stare at the swirls of colors, trying to will myself to remember something- _anything_. "I could swear..."

"It's Lucy's," he interrupts my thoughts. "She has a few pieces here. You remembered?"

I nod, but I'm still not sure if I would have ever remembered that the painting was Lucy's. It just looked familiar. "I think so," I tell him, and try to smile, but when he grins at me he looks so proud, and it's hard to resist that feeling.

He shows me the other two paintings Lucy has on display here, but I don't remember them. Not a damn thing.

Sometimes I hate my life.

"Wanna get out of here?" Jack asks me and I nod at him. I take his hand this time and we stroll down the street.

"My pick this time?" I want to go someplace I've gone before, a place with familiar surroundings and maybe even familiar people.

Okay, so maybe Central Park is a cliché New York spot, but I really want to go. I used to spend hours there when I was in school, studying or getting away from roommates I was annoyed with. I hail a cab and Jack knows where we're going almost immediately.

"You can't go a week without coming here," he laughs after he pays and we step out of the cab.

"Ahh, but that's where you're wrong, sir," I joke with him.

"No, you literally come here at least once a week, doesn't matter if it's 5 degrees out, or if it's pouring. And you always drag me along," he mutters, rolling his eyes before laughing in my direction.

I put my hands on my hips and pretend to pout. "I was in a coma for eight freaking days, Jack! I'm pretty sure I skipped a week. I think I'll spoil myself." Ha. So there.

I lie down in the grass and Jack lies beside me with his hands tucked under his head. Maybe things haven't changed all that much after all. Maybe I really am the same person, just with a few different priorities and a few different people in my life. Like my husband.

Jack's eyes are closed and he looks so peaceful, but somehow I can still feel him next to me. I decide that this is what our marriage is about. Maybe words don't always matter. I roll closer to him and he lets out a sigh as I rest my head on his shoulder. Wait- maybe I shouldn't be doing this, maybe I shouldn't be so comfortable with him. Maybe I shouldn't want this?

But then again, maybe I shouldn't fight it? I don't know anything anymore. Sometimes I wish I wasn't capable of thinking or holding myself back, that what came out of my mouth was exactly what I was feeling, that what I acted on was exactly what I wanted deep down inside.

I don't care right now, though, and I look up at his handsome face with his day-old stubble and all I want to do is kiss him, to feel him against me. All I want to do is kiss my husband. My heart is pounding and it seems like my life is in slow motion as I inch towards his face.

"Jack?" His eyes flutter open and focus on mine, and I know I'm about to do the right thing. He seems surprised to find me this close to him, but I see his eyes close softly again just before I press my lips against his. He holds the back of my neck with his palm and presses us together in this single kiss, and I love the feeling. His cheek is a little rough but feels good against my hand and my stomach is doing flip flops. God, I can't believe I'm doing this! Even though the kiss is innocent, this is what it's supposed to feel like.

"Thanks," I mumble quietly when I pull away from him, because I don't want to take it too far, and somehow that one word is enough, and somehow it explains everything.

And sometimes? I absolutely love my life.


	7. Left or Right?

Yes, thank me now for the fast update. ;) Thanks for your wonderful reviews last chapter! This chapter has a lot of dialogue, and Kate gets a little more philosophical than in the past, so hang in there and just accept that she's moody (rightfully so, I think!). The Jack and Kate interaction may be a little heavier, a little less lighthearted (mostly the end) at times but I tried to put in a good mix of everything. Enjoy...

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Left or Right?

"I kissed him," I tell Lucy almost bashfully as we sit in some swanky bar in Manhattan. For some reason I'm embarrassed about it, even though Jack hasn't brought it up since or acted like it was a big deal. "Two days ago."

She rolls her eyes at me. "So you kissed your husband. Big freaking deal."

I wonder if she's really the person I should be talking to about all of this, but I think Grace is my only other close friend that I remember from more than four years ago. And I'm _not _talking to her about this, not until I figure out how the hell we became friends, and how the hell I came to trust her enough to go into business with her. I don't know the details on Lucy's split from Ted, but it wouldn't be a stretch to think it was painful.

"Lucy! I hardly know the guy!" I take a swig of my drink and the vodka burns as it rolls down my throat. "You know him better than I do."

"At least you still have a husband," she mutters, rolling her eyes again and tipping back her drink. I'm not in the mood for her attitude, and sympathy hasn't always been my strong suit...

"I'm just saying..."

Right, and like I haven't been through anything life-changing either...

"What happened?"

"I don't even know... it just wasn't working Kate, believe me. I don't know how I misjudged our relationship so badly. We were happy together for like a month, tops. We just let it drag on after that."

Okay, so I guess I do feel bad for her. I may not have liked Ted, or enjoyed his company, or his conversation, or the way he dressed, or the fact that he was in love with my best friend, but I never wished bad things on them. Lucy always looked so happy. I wonder if Jack and I have ever been close to breaking things off? He did say we were intense. Mental note- ask him about this later. Also ask about the mean message on the answering machine from his mother. What was that all about? I don't think I want to meet her.

"I'm sorry," I offer her, because really, what are you supposed to say to that? Better luck next time?

Lucy's face softens as she empties her glass. She always could drink me under the table. "I don't really want to talk about it if that's okay." She smiles at me and I think I see her eyes glistening. Poor thing. "I'll just leave it up to you and your amnesia to remember all the gory details."

She gets another drink from the bartender and orders me one more. "So can you explain all this Grace stuff?"

"You and Ben had just broken up- he was your boyfriend, by the way. Cute, not much up there, though. Anyway, you took it really hard and one night she ended up coming out drinking with us." Lucy shrugs, and this whole thing must not have been such a big deal after all.

"So our friendship is based on an alcohol fueled night, over a guy who I don't even remember?" Go figure. Drunk would probably be the only state I'd ever I let the spawn of Satan into my life. Guess I'll have to start mostly over with her, too.

I learn a lot from Lucy- that I dated Ben, Mark, Nathan, Brock, and Dan before I finally met Jack. Streak of bad luck, I guess. She fills in some of these holes I've been wondering about, but I'm not nearly satisfied enough, because these people she's telling about mean nothing to me. I don't remember them, and I haven't met them yet since the whole car crash that gave me amnesia thing.

Jack insists on picking me up, telling me that he always does on these nights I go out with my friends. I might find it annoying if this city wasn't filled with so many creepy cab drivers. I wish I could remember some of the situations we put him in while he chauffeured my drunk friends and I around the city just to make sure they got home alright.

"You two were done kind of early tonight," Jack says after we drop Lucy off at her place.

I feel kind of irritated and I'm not sure why. Maybe learning all of these things about my life wasn't as great as I was expecting, because now I'm only more upset that I can't remember any of them, at the fact that I can't remember how I got to this place in my life.

"Yeah. I'm kind of tired," I lie, feigning a yawn and looking out into the brightly lit city.

We stop at a red light and Jack rests his hand over top of mine. "You're sure you're getting enough rest? Feeling alright?"

He means well, I know that, but it makes me feel like he's playing doctor with me. And the first time we play doctor, this is _not _how I want it to go. Ha.

"I'm just frustrated, Jack, that's all. I feel fine."

We're silent for most of the car ride, and I can't help but feel that there's some tension strung through our air. He opens my side of the car and takes my hand. I still get flutters.

"I wish I could help you more." His eyes are soft, full of concern, and I can tell he means it.

"I know."

I plop down on the bed when we reach the apartment. Maybe closing my eyes and willing all of this to float away will work. Maybe I can just start over. The mattress sinks with weight beside me and Jack's lying on his side, head propped up with his elbow, a small smile on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shakes his head, but can't wipe the smile off his face and continues anyway. "I was just thinking about when you got stung by a jellyfish. On our honeymoon."

Ouch. I knew I always had a right to be scared of bodies of water I can't see through!

"And this makes you laugh because...?" Jerk.

"If you remembered... oh God," he starts, breaking into a light chuckle. "You hobbled around the beach until-"

"Shut up," I say quickly. No time for nice words right now.

There's a green bikini, and there I am, holding my ankle and hobbling around, getting sand all over myself. I look like a drowned rat. Jack's laughing at me, wrapping his arms around me trying to get me to hold still, but I seem to be yelling at him or something. Oh God.

"Until I let you pee on me," I say, finishing his sentence.

I remember something! I can't believe it! This isn't like Lucy's painting at all- I remember this scene vividly and I know exactly what happened. And I get to see a tan Jack running around the beach with his swim trunks on. This whole regaining my memory thing? I could get used to it.

"Yeah," he smiles, rubbing my arm. "You remembered?"

"Yeah," I agree, "I remembered." We both grin, and it's like some kind of weight is lifted off my chest. Even if it consists of him chasing me around a beach trying to pee on my leg, I finally have a memory of Jack and I together. But it ends there and fades to black- the last I see of this scene is Jack grinning at me, presumably about to get his way.

Ew. I can't believe I let him pee on me. No couple- married or not, should be that close.

"My God, Jack. You're a doctor, you couldn't have thought of any other way?"

He shrugs. "Not when that worked just as well. I seem to remember you feeling better straight away."

Why does he always have to grin at me like that? That innocent, I beg you to forgive me, I dare you not to fall for this, kind of look. Damn him.

He lets me mull over this revelation, and I stare at the ceiling. "It's late," I finally say, because I hear his breathing shallow out.

"12:15," he says, scoffing at his watch. "Screw it, I'm calling off tomorrow, yeah? We'll spend the day together?"

I smile back at him. "Sounds great."

"Okay, well, I think I'm going to head to bed anyway, though. Need anything?"

We're adults, right? Surely I shouldn't push him to the couch every night anymore, giving him a life of sore backs and fitful sleep. Yeah, we can share a bed. It'll be fine. Trust yourself, Kate!

I pat the empty spot beside me and Jack raises his eyebrows in my direction. "You sure?"

"Of course. Just don't try anything." He smiles at me reassuringly, but I still feel like I've said the stupidest thing ever. He's not that kind of guy.

Even though Jack has no problem stripping down to his boxers straight in front of me, and hell, I watch every second of it as inconspicuously as possible while I'm pulling some clothes out of the drawer, I still feel the need to take my pajamas to the bathroom and change there. Subconsciously, I must be trying to act like a skank, because I've picked out some boyshorts and a thin strapped tank top, but I feel as nervous as I probably should when I walk outside the confines of the bathroom.

"Umm... which side-?"

Jesus, I don't even know which side of the bed I sleep on. I've kind of been spreading across the whole thing the past few nights. I can add that to the list of things I don't know, but I'm starting to think it would be easier to make a list of things I _do_.

"You've always taken the left," he says softly. "But hey, if you've always wanted the right, here's your chance."

I laugh awkwardly because I'm not sure what else to do. I seem to be doing that a lot lately.

Jack climbs in next to me after he turns out the light, bouncing me around while he tries to get comfortable. He's silent, but I can tell we're both reeling.

Here it goes. "Was it weird that I kissed you? I mean, is that too... weird?" Damn. I wish I could think of a different word.

He turns on his side so he faces me, and my first reaction is to pull away when he puts a palm to the side of my face, but I decide it feels good there. Maybe like it belongs there. I'm not sure.

"Nope," he says simply, adding with a laugh, "Feel free." Phew.

"I'm trying, you know. I just..."

"I know." The look in his eyes is soft and understanding, and I'm once again reminded of why I fell for this man, reminded of why I'm falling for him again. I'm falling for him.

There. I've admitted it.

And suddenly, I understand all of this more clearly. While it's incredibly frustrating, I can't control when or if my memories come to me; I can't control whether or not I remember Jack, or our life together. All I can do is wait, and hope, and get to know _this _Jack, and _this _Kate.

The hand on my face falls slowly until it rests in front of my chest, clinging to my tank top as I'm filled with random questions again. Those brown eyes are still staring into mine, though I can't tell if he just wants to look at me, to see that I'm really here, or if maybe he's expecting me to say something.

"Kate?" he asks me suddenly, softly, closing his eyes briefly. He skims a hand over my bare arm and shivers run over me.

"Hmm?"

I have to close my eyes when he trails the same hand down my neck and stops pointedly in the middle of my chest, tracing a small circle there. But I don't want him to stop.

"Do you trust me?" It's almost a whisper.

I find myself nodding without any thought, because I do trust this man, and I don't feel like I can say I hardly know him anymore. I may not know all about our past, but I _feel _how we are together, and that's enough for now.

"Good," he breathes against me, and I'm aware that our bodies have moved closer together, almost touching fronts, like some sort of magnetic force took over.

And a second later, he brushes his lips over mine so softly I have to make sure it's really happening.

All of this is really happening.


	8. Truth or Dare

Same old story- been really busy, sorry for the long wait, all that. Thanks for your reviews! Took me four separate times to complete this chapter because I haven't had a big chunk of free time, so I guess just be thankful you're getting it at all! ;)

This time around- Kate has an interesting meeting with someone, has another memory, and takes a dare from Jack! And the answer to the question I know a lot you will be asking at the end- NO.

Enjoy and as always let me know what you think! Oh, and there's a bit of language tossed in there, couldn't help myself.

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Truth or Dare

I'm going to get him.

The door to the apartment closes tightly, resonating through the rooms and off of the wood floors. Jack hasn't told me all that much about what our life was like together, partly because I don't let him most of the time, but I know enough to do this. I hold my laughter back as I close myself in the linen closet, waiting for just the right moment.

Hmm. It kind of smells in here.

Finally his footsteps come closer and I plan my attack, and even though this is just for fun I swear I can hear my heart beating. Maybe that's just because of Jack. When I hear a sigh I throw the door open and jump out onto the soft carpet.

"Raawwr!" I yell loudly, grinning, waiting to see his reaction, waiting for the whining that is sure to come. I got him good.

Oh fuck. That is _not _Jack.

It's some... some _woman_. Okay, think positive for once- maybe she didn't hear me! Maybe I'm dreaming, and I didn't just jump out of a closet and 'rawr' at some random stranger. But then again, maybe imminent extreme embarrassment is just a side effect of losing your memory.

She turns toward me with a cool smirk on her face that makes me want to lurk in the corner, and I realize that not only is she most definitely not Jack, or even a male for that matter, but that I didn't scare her either. Fuck again.

Wait a minute- who _is _this woman? Part of me wants to make a mad dash to the kitchen and grab a really sharp knife. Or a rolling pin.

But then her face eases into a small smile, though most of me thinks she's making fun of me. "Hello Kate," she tells me assertively. "What a... _nice_ greeting. Do you do that to all your guests?"

If I'd gotten that knife a few seconds ago, I would totally stab her right now, and I don't even know her name, or if maybe she just came in to water our plants.

"Umm... how did you- how did you get in?"

She rolls her eyes and walks into the kitchen, reaching into the cabinet and pulling out a glass, rinsing it out before she fills it. Make yourself at home, lady.

"Jack gave me a key, don't you remem-"

"No," I say solidly, and a look of understanding washes over her face. "I don't remember."

She faces me and I finally get a good look at her. I already know who she is, who she has to be, and I understand why I was afraid to meet her. At first glance she's a bit intimidating, with her perfect hair and makeup, her flawless outfit. Her flawless... well, _everything_. And I'm standing here in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt with a unicorn on it.

But somehow it looks like with the right choice of words, or the right actions, she'd crumble right down. "Margo," she says, offering her hand to me, and I take it, stiff and cold. "Jack's mother." She sets her glass on the counter loudly and rests a hand on her hip. "I didn't think you'd be home."

Where the hell else would I be? As far as I know, I don't really have a job, or anything to do, or anything that resembles a _life_. All I do is sit around and try to remember four years. It pretty much sucks. Well, sometimes I snoop through Jack's stuff, too. But that's kind of fun.

"Do you always sneak around our apartment when we're not home?"

"Just wanted to make sure everything was going okay. I was under the impression that you'd be back to work by now."

Okay, is she dense? I don't know _how_ to be a vet. I don't know what everyone is expecting from me- am I supposed to go back to work and pretend that I know how to do much of anything other than trimming toenails and giving baths? Jesus.

"I guess you haven't talked to Jack lately, then," I tell her, not quite sure what to do with myself, or what our relationship was like before the accident. Maybe I'm reading into it too much, but I get the impression she doesn't think much of me.

"I talk to Jack plenty, thank you." She's polite, but too polite, too closed off. She's so polite she's _not _polite! "I thought you'd be doing better than this, though. Have you been seeing a psychiatrist or anything? I really think it could help."

Nope. She doesn't like me.

"So what did I ever do to you, Margo? Is it just because I married your son? Am I not good enough or something?"

Hah. There's nothing like losing your memory to give you the balls to do things you could've never imagined before.

Margo isn't sure how to answer but regains her composure quickly. "I think you're a nice woman, Kate, and Jack really loves you. I've never told you otherwise."

Maybe I shouldn't be doing this. Maybe I should be pretending to like her, pretending that we get along. Maybe I could change things? Nah. "Just because you don't say it doesn't mean I can't tell what you think of me," I tell her, and watch her until I'm sure she's frozen in stone.

"It's a lovely day out, isn't it? Jack should be home soon, yes?" she asks me, looking to her watch as if this incredibly awkward conversation didn't just happen.

"Yeah." Thank God. Hopefully he knows how to deal with her. With _that._

"So how are you two doing? Is everything going alright?" For the most part she seems genuinely interested, concerned. Maybe she doesn't hate me after all. Or maybe she's schizophrenic.

I smile, even though the last thing I want to do in front of Margo is reveal my feelings about Jack. I mean, I know she knows we're married, but in a way we're still a secret, because no one else knows what we're like together _now_. They only know the old Jack and Kate.

"Yeah, we're doing pretty-"

"Oh- Kate, dear, I was wondering if you had the name of that caterer that you promised me? I'll need it soon if I'm going to book him."

Okay, stay calm. Is she trying to make me upset? Does she have the memory span of a fish and can't remember that _I_ can't remember?

"You know how I was in that car crash?" I ask her, and wait for her nod. She does, and I continue. "The thing is, when that happened, I kind of lost my memory. Like four years of it." I'm well beyond sarcasm here, since I'm positive she knows what is going on but chooses to torture me anyway.

Margo nods curtly at me, her mouth curling into a smirk. I'm starting to think it's the only facial expression she's capable of. "I'm well aware of your situation."

"Then no, I don't have the name of that caterer."

Here comes that smirk again, and I'm certain she's just playing with my mind. She looks me up and down and looks dissatisfied. "Of course you don't, dear. Why don't you go get dressed?"

I storm off and feel like I'm fourteen again, and really, really mad at my mom. Only I'm twenty-nine, and really, really mad at Jack's mom. However tempted I am to slam the door behind me, I resist. I pull off my unicorn shirt, tossing it to the ground and scoffing at it. It's staring at me. Stop looking at me, unicorn! I kick it away with my foot and pick out a different shirt- an adult shirt, and just as I'm pulling my jeans on, Jack comes in with an uneasy expression etched onto his face.

"I'm sorry," he says quickly, before I can rip into him about what a horrible husband he's been for not warning me about his mother. "I didn't think she'd be stopping by anymore." He looks sorry, but mostly worried about what I'll do to him.

"Thanks for telling me that your mother is... is evil! I appreciate it!" I say sarcastically.

He rolls his eyes and looks like he wants to laugh, which only makes me angrier. "She's not evil, Kate. You're exaggerating."

"Jack, she pretended not to know I couldn't remember her! And I jumped out of the hall closet and rawrred at her because I was trying to scare you, only it wasn't you, it was her, and she told me to change my outfit and she thought that I could go back to work already, and she just hates me!"

I'm surprised Jack let me rant on that whole time, but I feel better already.

"You rawrred at her?" he asks me, a smile playing on his lips as he sits down next to me on the bed. "I'm the only one you're supposed to rawrr at," he jokes with me, smiling at me and wrapping an arm around my waist. God damn him for turning me to goo.

"I was trying to, if that makes you feel any better." I rest my head on his shoulder and we just sit for a minute.

"You smell good." I've been thinking it the entire time, but I'm not sure I meant to say it.

He laughs and the movement bobs my head up and down. "Thanks," he tells me, amused. "You picked it out. You have good taste."

Jack is still smiling at me, and I look him up and down. I'm not looking at his clothes or how he smells. He's right. I do have good taste.

"I'm gonna go get rid of my mom. I'll make something up."

"Thank you," I say dramatically. When he leaves I reach to the nightstand and send a text message to Lucy. I'm less afraid to ask her how Margo and I got along before the accident than I am of Jack.

-Jack's mom? Evil!

I press send and sit sulking on the comforter.

"We hardly got to talk, Jack," I hear Margo say through our closed bedroom doors. "She was awfully rude to me."

Jack sighs loudly. Please stick up for me! Please prove you're worthy of being my husband... "Kate told me what happened, mom. Don't lead her on like that, okay? It's hard enough for her not to be able to remember anything."

"Fine. But I say she's not trying hard enough."

The words should make me angry, but they don't. I'm thinking of something else. _'She's not trying hard enough.' _

"_Kate, I just don't understand why you're being so difficult about this."_

_I can't take this woman. It's a good thing I love Jack so much. "I already told you I don't want a big wedding, Margo. Jack feels the same way."_

_She's been insisting to help with the wedding plans ever since Jack and I told her we got engaged. I protested, but she's pushy, to say the least. She's more harm than help._

"_But there are so many people missing from this list that can't possibly be left off. We know some very important families, Kate," she snarks. Shut up!_

"_Yeah, well, it's our wedding and I'm going to have to say no to this one, okay?" She's taken my last ounce of patience and is wringing it for all it's worth._

_She rolls her eyes at me but tries to hide it. I couldn't count the number of times she's done this. "This wedding is probably the only one you'll ever have, Kate. You're not trying hard enough. You don't care enough."_

Shit. I don't want to remember this! I don't want to remember Margo! I want to remember Jack, and our life together, and how to be a vet. I want to remember the good things.

"I remember planning the wedding with your mom," I tell Jack, wide eyed, when he comes back in. "We've never gotten along, have we?"

He laughs. "Not so much. Wasn't so fun, was it?"

"No... it was something about the guest list and how we wanted a small wedding. Your mother wasn't agreeing with it," I laugh.

He sighs and lies back on the bed, his legs dangling over the edge. He looks perfect, content even. "Still, though. I'm glad that you're remembering something.

"Jack, you want to know what I've remembered?" I ask him sarcastically. "Your mom marching me around bridal stores, a stupid little picture, and you peeing on my leg. That's it."

"Okay," he grins, "So they haven't necessarily been the best memories, but they're still memories, Kate."

Damn him for being so rational.

Me? I've been mostly irrational since I woke up from the whole coma thing, but I like to think we balance each other out. It doesn't seem like Jack has an unsure bone in his body- he thinks everything through, weighs every option like it was the most important decision of his life. I close my eyes and flop back on the bed beside him, but I feel him looking at me. When I turn my head, he's staring at me, not at all embarrassed that I caught him. He smirks. I wish I could read it.

"What?" God, do I have something on my face? He's giving me one of those kinds of looks, and with the way my day has gone so far, I wouldn't be at all surprised.

"Nothing," he says happily, but his stare is still pointed at me.

He makes me nervous. "Is this some game we play or something? What am I supposed to do?" I ask him after a few more seconds, because it doesn't seem like he wants me to look away.

Jack shrugs, even though his shoulders are pressed into the mattress. "Kate... I want you to do whatever you want to do." He says this slowly, and somehow there's more meaning behind it than I initially thought. He's talking about us. "Whatever you want to do."

I don't really know what I want to do, but I roll on top of him anyway, hoping for the best.

I smile at him, exuding a lot more confidence than I'm feeling. "Is this what you meant?" I ask him with a laugh, holding his wrists by his head.

"Could be," he chuckles back. "Definitely," he adds, sitting up quickly, forcing me to cling to him. Not that I mind. He feels so good against me.

He brings our faces close together so I can feel his breath mingling with mine, so I can see nothing but his eyes as they bore into mine. It should make me uncomfortable. But it doesn't.

"I dare you," he whispers against my mouth, a hint of amusement in his words. But there's something else mixed in- want, need?

So I lean forward in the slightest way, closing the gap between us and settling our lips together. This is different than in the park, different than the barely-kiss the other night in bed. I'm sure of myself, more sure of Jack. My stomach drops and I'm full of nerves, but in a spectacular way, a way that makes me feel alive. It makes me feel like Kate again.

I open my mouth and sneak my tongue to the corner of his lips and he happily obliges. "My God, I missed you," he mumbles against me in breaths, breaking the kiss for only a moment, but it's a moment too long. His hands are wrapped around my lower back, and I couldn't be pressed any tighter against him if I wanted to be. His mouth moves over mine again and again until I sigh into his and rub my hands over the back of his head.

He should know I never back out of a dare.


	9. Baby, It's a Fact

Thanks for your nice reviews! And about the end of this chapter- well, it had to happen sometime, didn't it? :) Please let me know what you think!

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Baby, It's a Fact

I can't believe that happened. Okay, so it's not like we had sex, but it scares me how close I feel to Jack, and the kind of strange power he has over me. It scares me how much I want this, and how much I'm pulling away from it at the same time. It scares me that I'm not quite sure what I want, but Jack is.

I hear the door slam. That's him. He's like clockwork- up at 6am, out the door by 6:30, home at 7:15 every night.

"Hey," he tells me, smiling lazily and fighting a yawn.

"Long day?"

"The longest." He sighs and flops down onto the couch. "So, how was yours? Remember anything else?"

No. God damn it. Not a single thing since the other night. The making out night. I'm twenty-nine- why the hell am I still freaking out over making out with a guy? I shake my head.

"Well, you have an appointment tomorrow, maybe they can tell you more then." Jack smiles but I can tell he's only trying to reassure me.

"I don't think they can exactly predict when I'll get my memory back, Jack."

I really like this guy, but sometimes he's annoyingly supportive.

Jack's rubbing his temples, his eyes closed and leaning back into the couch.

"What's wrong?" I'm sitting next to him, and very tempted to scoot closer. But now I'm not. Sometimes I hate myself.

"Headache. I'm probably just tense. Tough surgery today."

I realize that I almost never ask Jack about his life, unless it's about me. Maybe I'm more selfish than I thought. "Yeah? How'd it go, Dr. Shephard?" I know he hates it when I call him that, but I love it.

"Good. Good." It's all he says and I can tell he doesn't want to talk about it. He spends enough time at the hospital as it is, even if he loves it. "You know, you gave the best massages ever..."

"Are you making things up again, Jack?" I ask him with a hint of amusement in my voice, because hell, I would probably tell my wife with memory loss that she gave good massages, too.

He shakes his head. "Nope. I would never." He grins at me, giving what I can only assume are puppy dog eyes.

I roll my eyes. "Turn around." Jack sits with his back towards me, his shoulders relaxing the moment I dig my thumbs into the tense muscles. "I'm sick of this apartment," I sigh. It's mostly my fault- Jack suggests things that I can go out and do all the time, I just never do. I guess there's too much going on in my head.

"Want to go out to dinner or something? Get outta here for awhile?" He turns his head to the side, looking to me for confirmation.

"Perfect." Getting out of here for just a little bit will help clear my mind. Well, not that it needs it. It's clear enough. That's my whole problem.

The fabric of his shirt is starting to rub hot against my fingers, so I tug the hem of it from his pants. "Are you trying to tell me something?" he laughs, pulling it out in the front and unbuttoning it, then slipping it off. Basically, any reason I have for getting Jack to take his shirt off turns out to be a good time.

"You work out Jack?" I ask him airily, trying not to sound too desperate, though I'd love to know how he got his body. Maybe we really _do_ have a trainer named Lars. My thighs are looking quite good, I've noticed.

He chuckles. "I'm naturally blessed," he smirks, but I know no one is naturally _this _blessed.

I move my hands up to his neck, after the muscles in his back have started to ease. He moans so I dig my fingers in harder.

"Good?"

He doesn't answer, so I take it as a positive sign and push him down on his stomach. He lets out a breath of air as he hits the cushions in surprise but soon settles in them, letting my hands massage across his back and neck. I think I'm enjoying this too much.

We don't speak while I'm doing this, except for a few sporadic moans Jack lets out. At first I think it's weird, but then I think it's a good thing. We don't have to speak to be comfortable, and I'm perfectly content just like this. When I'm satisfied I've thoroughly turned Jack into mush, I pull my hands away and sit perched on his lower back.

"Mmm... sleep," he mumbles and turns over, pulling me down into the warm couch with him. I'm hardly tired with his warm, bare chest pressed against my back and his arm looped around me. My body is going through sensory overload, because I'm buzzing in all the right places- where his breath hits my neck, the spot on my hip where his thumb is absently moving over.

But at the same time, I'm not completely comfortable. I'm sucking in my stomach, terrified that his hands will find that one little spot I hate, checking my breath in case he decides to kiss me again. Jack must know that I'm doing all of these things, because he rubs one hand over the side of my stomach and the other softly through my hair.

"Relax," he breaths, and I try, but soon he's fallen asleep and it doesn't matter anyway. His breathing is heavy and almost distracting, and when I turn around in his arms to watch him, he looks so peaceful. I still don't know all that much about his life, and just the way we feel around each other is starting to lose it's charm. It's not enough anymore. If I can't remember anything about myself until my memory decides to let me, then I need to find out all about him.

I know it's been at least an hour when Jack finally wakes up. I was staring at him, trying to memorize every detail, every tiny freckle on his face, until his eyes fluttered open and I pretended I'd been asleep too... When he plays with my hair, I open my eyes and finally look into his. They're glassy, and it's quickly turning into one of those intense, silent moments that we haven't had all too many of, considering at least half of everything I say or do is awkward or embarrassing.

My stomach growls loudly, and just as suddenly it's turned into another one of those embarrassing moments. There it goes again. "Wanna go out and get some dinner?" he laughs against me, his voice soft and tired.

It's 9 by the time we get out the door, but this city never sleeps, and it's just as bustling as it is at noon. "Nice night," Jack says absently, looping his hand through mine. "Where to?"

I shrug my shoulders, because I'm so hungry I don't care where we eat. We come across a small restaurant with an outdoor patio and I nod at Jack when he questions me with his eyes. It's still balmy, so I relax in my chair, even though it's a little stiff and uncomfortable. This place feels like somewhere Jack and I have been before.

"So, tell me about yourself, Jack," I say coyly, smirking at him from across the round table.

He raises his eyebrows and shrugs. "What, are we on our first date or something?"

"Probably more like our third, but I've already moved in and everything," I joke coolly, not missing the glint of amusement that passes through his eyes. "But seriously, I don't feel like I know all that much about you..."

"What else is there to know?" he protests. "I think we covered all the basics."

Sometimes men just don't get it. Sure, I know I'm married to a spinal surgeon, I know where he went to college and what his favorite color is, and even how many women he's slept with, but that only scratches the surface. There's so much more to know about a person, and besides knowing that he has an incredible body, is a great kisser, and can pull me in with his eyes, I don't know much of anything about him.

I roll my eyes, and suddenly discover that I must do this a lot and it's probably annoying. And rude. "Tell me something I don't know. Tell me something that only I know, err... knew, whatever."

"Okay," he starts, leaning his forearms on the table and meeting his hands in the middle. "Uh, you're the only person who knows I own a Dixie Chicks album," he offers. I start laughing, because it's hard to picture Jack listening to music at all, let alone a girl country band.

"Come on, give me some more," I taunt him after my laughter has subsided a bit. I don't know how I never found that CD in all my times scavenging through the apartment.

He searches for something else, resting his chin in his hands. "You're the only one who has a nickname for my birthmark," he laughs, and soon he's bobbing his eyebrows up and down.

No fair. I want to see it again!

"Where?"

Jack shrugs again, this time sarcastically. "I guess you'll just have to figure that out on your own. It's not exactly in the most _public _spot..."

Is he saying that he wants me to have sex with him? Well, I'm sure he does, he's a man after all, and I _am_ his wife...

Stop! Stop rationalizing this again! It would be all too easy to fall into bed with him, and this time for real. But I don't want to mess anything up. Okay, so I don't want to mess anything up _more. _

Maybe brushing this aside and giving him a coy smile is the only way to take on this situation. So I do. "Did we ever talk about having kids, Jack?"

A look of hesitance sweeps across him, as if he doesn't want to say something that'll offend me. "Not very often," he finally admits, not meeting my gaze.

I've never really thought much about having kids, other than my initial scare in the hospital, when I thought I might've had some giant brigade of children waiting for me at home. I've never really had to think about it before. Not for real.

"Why's that?" Part of me is really scared he'll say that he doesn't want kids, that he doesn't like them, or get along with them, or something equally as horrible. I guess that means I want them, because the thought of not ever having them sucks.

"Uh, you just didn't really like to talk about it. It's kind of the only area we don't really agree on..."

I might as well ask him. "So you don't want kids and I do? Is that it?"

I can't believe that I'd ever marry someone who disagrees with me on such a big, daunting subject, so I tell him this.

"I was so in love with you Kate. You were really upfront about not wanting kids, but I guess I thought I could change your mind once we were married. I don't regret it," he adds. "But I wish it was different."

So I was the problem. I was the one who didn't want kids. I can't picture ever being that way- I may not possess the most motherly instincts ever, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to try...

"I can't believe I didn't want kids," I say, more to myself than him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Jack looks taken aback, and I am too, because suddenly I'm not mad at myself for not wanting kids, I'm mad at him for knowing and trying to change my mind.

"So you thought that I'd just wake up one day and decide, 'Okay, I want a kid'?" I guess that's _technically_ what happened when I woke up from the coma, but no need to point that out...

It's kind of horrifying that we're already having our first fight, about something in the past. Over something that I can't go back and change. Over something that he probably has more of a right to be mad than I do.

"Were you just going to hope that I accidentally got pregnant? Did you make me feel bad for not wanting a baby?"

That soft glint in his eyes is gone completely, and replaced with something I haven't seen yet- dark, concentrated pupils. It doesn't take a genius to figure out he's mad.

"God, Kate! I've been trying _so _hard not to blow up over little things, but then you have to go and nitpick over every little thing I say! I've been trying to make you feel as comfortable as possible, I've been trying so hard not to push you, to not tell you who you're supposed to be. Don' take all of this out on me!" He stands up from the table and throws a wad of cash down. I follow him, even though his long strides are hard to keep up with. "It's not my fault that I want kids, and it's not your fault that you don't. Okay?"

I suppose I should've seen this coming. Everyone has a breaking point, and Jack has clearly reached his. I've done nothing in the past week to thank him. I've taken advantage of him. But still, I want to know how this all happened, but more, how I _let _all of this happen.

"But how could you marry me thinking that you'll never get children out of it? How is that fair to either of us?"

Jack stops and turns around on the sidewalk, facing me, so close to me that he's actually scaring me a little. "Life isn't fair, Kate! Haven't you ever heard that expression before?" he laughs sarcastically. It only makes me angrier that he's mocking my memory. Or lack thereof.

"You were enough, Kate, okay? Is it so bad that I love you so much I'm willing to make a sacrifice like that? Is it so bad that I chose you instead?"

Okay, so I've royally pissed him off and I have no idea how to fix it.

Tonight just isn't the night to tell him I've had a change of heart, that he won't have to make that sacrifice in the future, assuming we work out. Tonight isn't the night to tell him that I want kids, that eventually I want kids with _him. _At first I think I must be too mad to talk to him, but now I know I'm too scared to say it out loud. Maybe that would make it too real.

I'm scared of myself, but almost worse, I'm scared of my life. How'd that happen?


	10. Sweatpants & Apologies

Thanks for your reviews! Of course keep them coming if you'd be so nice, thoughts suggestions are extremely welcome!

Keep in mind they haven't completely fixed things. :)

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Sweatpants & Apologies

It's June 20th. I've been out of my coma for two whole weeks.

Happy Anniversary to me.

Time has kind of been a blur- sometimes I feel completely normal, like my life is just like anyone else's, and then- here's the kicker- I remember that I don't know who I'm supposed to be, or who I was the past four years. I remember that I crashed my car on the interstate and wound up in a coma, and I remember that I _can't _remember.

And, to make things worse, Jack's still mad at me. It's been three days since the dreaded fight, and I've figured out that both of us are entirely too stubborn to admit defeat- even though I was the one who was out of line. I was the bitch, but I don't plan on letting him in on that.

He's in the kitchen right now, slicing something or other, since I've since figured out he does most of the cooking, too. Am I utterly worthless? He's busy enough with the work and the stress that comes along with it, and then he comes home to me- his wife- the wife who doesn't remember him- meeting him, marrying him, nothing- except getting stung by a jellyfish and planning the wedding with his frigid mother.

And then he cooks for me. Because that's the kind of guy Jack is. Sometimes I think he cares too much. No, he definitely does. _I _can hardly put up with me.

I walk into the kitchen and he acknowledges me with a nod. We've basically mastered the art of having conversations without actually speaking much in the past few days. If I'm reading him right, Jack's not really all that mad about our whole baby talk- he just doesn't want to be the first one to break.

Maybe I should move past all of this and crack under the pressure. I'm so desperate to talk to someone besides my mom or Lucy, who have both been phone stalking me. They apparently don't understand that I don't feel like talking to them twelve hours of the day. Mom is driving me nuts, trying to set up a time I can meet her new husband, my _stepfather_, and Lucy has convinced me to go out with her tonight, even though I don't feel like being dragged to some Manhattan bar where I feel out of place. And old.

I'm one of those bitches Lucy and I would see in a bar back when we were in school and make fun of. I'm almost thirty.

Before he can ask for it, I hand Jack the carrots I know he wants. He nods again, supposedly in thanks, but when he doesn't think I'm looking I see the thin line of his mouth break into something that might be considered a smile. He's probably enjoying this. Ass.

The next thing I know, after a few syllables of explanation to Jack, I'm climbing into a cab with Lucy, who, unlike me isn't dressed up for a night on the town. She has on sweats and a t-shirt. I'm almost embarrassed to be seen in public with her, and if not for her manicured nails and her shiny black hair, it might look like I enjoy befriending homeless people.

"I'm depressed," she tells me, looking to me for comfort, forcing me to say something. I thought we'd already figured out sympathy isn't exactly my strong point.

She hadn't mentioned her 'depression' in any of the thirteen phone conversations I've had with her over the past few days. I made the mistake in calling her and telling her all about the fight I had with Jack. Or the fight I'm _still _having with Jack. Whatever. But as I'm listening to everything she says, I definitely don't remember her being such miserable company in the past.

"Uhh, what's wrong? You sounded fine this morning..." This better be good.

Shifting on the seat beside me, she crosses her legs indian style. "I _was_ fine this morning! _This morning_ was before my life ended."

Jesus. Who does she think she is right now? She wants to talk to _me_, the girl with practically no memory, about her life ending? Come on.

"Ted got the apartment," Lucy moans, slamming her head into the leather seat behind her.

"What do you mean Ted got-"

She lets out a loud sigh. "In the divorce settlement. His lawyer got him the apartment."

"Oh shit," I mumble, though I don't mean to. "I mean, everything will be fine! Don't worry about it!"

I guess my problems really do pale in comparison with hers at the moment. Never thought I'd be saying that.

"How am I supposed to not worry about it? I have nowhere to live! I'm divorced! I'm turning thirty in twenty-three days! My life is going down the drain," she says bitterly, and by now I feel like it's my obligation to cheer her up, and most likely why she invited me out in the first place. I feel used, but mostly sympathetic.

"You'll find a place in no time," I offer meagerly, and Lucy sees right through this.

"Yeah right. You don't even believe that," she scoffs. Telling the cab driver to pull over, she starts to pull some money out of her wallet, but I figure I'm in a better situation to do so, since I have somewhere to live and all.

Lucy orders one of the biggest cones of ice cream I've ever seen- my treat, and I get one about half the size.

"When do you have to be out?"

"End of the month. Can you believe that? I'm supposed to figure out where I'm going to fucking live, and move there, in ten fucking days! Fuckety-fuck."

Shit. She really _is _homeless, and it's not just the sweats, even if they are freaking gross.

And okay, so I'm laughing inside, because that was perhaps the most hilarious use of profanity I've ever heard. Does that make me a bad person? Come on Kate, look like you feel bad for her.

I can sense what's coming next, but I hope to whatever is up there in the sky that she won't ask. Please, please, please don't ask to stay with Jack and I. Please.

"So, you know, if something doesn't work out do you think it would be alright if I stayed with you and Jack for a little bit? Just until I figure something out?"

Damn.

I almost want to say yes, but I know how angry that would make Jack, and most likely how angry Lucy would make me. And Jack and I are already not getting along. We're trying to build our relationship, and she would only get in the way of that.

She must sense my hesitance. "Oh," Lucy mutters. "It's okay, I know you don't want me to."

"It's not that-"

"It's okay," she says, even though her voice gives away that it's not. "You and Jack must still need some time."

"Yeah. We're still trying to work stuff out, and we're kind of fighting right now, and I just don't think it would be the best time-"

"Kate, it's okay," she tells me flatly. "I'll find someplace."

She doesn't even ask me about Jack, and we part ways awkwardly, after she's dripped her ice cream all over her green sweats. I feel like I've backtracked. I pushed her out of my life somehow, and I still made it all about me. I decide that I need the fresh air, and even though it's pitch black out, a walk will clear my mind.

I still find that phrase incredibly ironic. 'Clear my mind.' Right. Done. Cleared, and not by choice.

Babies. How again did I suddenly decide that I want some? With a man that I suppose I've known for five years, but on _my _count, it's been more like... fourteen days. I guess there's some sort of instinct inside me, a pre-motherly instinct or something, something that's telling me Jack's the right man and the right father. Not that we're going to be getting started on this anytime soon, since he kind of, you know, hates me a little bit right now.

Street lamps line the sidewalk as I get nearer to the apartment, giving off a soft glow that I've always thought looks somewhat like it should be in a movie. I can't ever imagine not living in New York City. It's so alive.

There's no mistaking the outline walking in my direction, his head somewhat down, like he's in thought and counting his steps between the cracks of the sidewalk. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, and when we're about ten feet apart, he raises his head and looks towards me, like he sensed my presence or something.

"Hey," I offer, after I stare at him for what seems like a minute. That was lame.

"Hey."

The people passing us are throwing us quizzical glances. They're probably wondering why two people who seem so uncomfortable around each other are stopped on the sidewalk having a chat.

"Nice night," he says, and by now I've figured out it's what he says when he has nothing else to say.

"Yeah. Listen, Jack-" I start, ready to forget my pride and get this over with, because otherwise my existence will be miserable, and his probably will be too.

"Wait," he interrupts. "Just... let's not, okay?"

So I guess he wants to ignore this all. Pretend like everything's okay?

"But... I mean, I know you're mad about everything we said to each other the other night. I just wanted to apologize..."

He squeezes his eyes shut briefly. "Kate, I don't want to talk about this again because I don't want it rubbed in my face some more that I'll never have any children. Okay?"

Surprisingly, he doesn't sound angry, more like contemplative and a bit subdued, like he's thought about it so much there's no emotion left. He looks defeated, sad.

I have to tell him, even if it scares the shit out of me, even if it makes me feel vulnerable and emotionally exposed.

So even though I probably shouldn't, even though my nerves are screaming at me to stop, to protect myself, I wrap my arms around his neck and press myself against him, only it's not nearly as nice as it normally is. His hands remain deep in his pockets instead of around me, and his body is a little stiff against mine.

"Jack," I whisper in his ear, and I swear I can feel the skin prickle on his neck. I think for the first time that maybe I have the same effect on him that he does on me.

"I don't know what I was like before, and why I didn't want kids, but when I think about it now..."

Okay, just say it. "When I think about it now, I can't imagine not having kids. I can't imagine _us _not having kids, Jack."

Suddenly he's pulled away from me, but it's not quite the reaction I was expecting.

"No," he starts, motioning with his hands, his brow creasing. "I didn't want to _make_ you change your mind, Kate. This isn't how it's supposed to be."

Oh God. Why does everything have to go so... not as I planned?

I let out a bark of laughter that seems to to get his attention. "In case you haven't noticed, Jack, none of this is exactly how it's _supposed_ to be."

Because really, was I supposed to get in a terrible car accident? Was I supposed to forget my life, my husband, who I am? I doubt it.

"Because I don't know, now I want children when I apparently didn't want them before, now I want so many things that I'm not sure I'm supposed to. I'm not sure if anything I'm doing is what I'm supposed to be doing!"

Here I go again, unleashing at Jack, but this time he doesn't look angry. He looks like he pities me, which is basically worse.

"Am I supposed to be feeling this way about you, am I supposed to be falling for you even though I've know you for two weeks? Is it even okay that I'm thinking about having kids with you? Am I delusional because I think about sleeping with you and what it would be like? Nothing I do is right, nothing I think is right and I can't do a damn thing about it."

Fuck. I didn't really want to say 90 percent of that out loud, but out it went. And now he knows.

"Just stop," he coaxes. Then there's a warm arm wrapping around my shoulders and I jump. This is strange again. He starts walking and I have no choice but to go along, as our legs synchronize steps, and I'm lulled into a more peaceful state. We haven't completely resolved this, and I know the fight will still be in the back of each of our minds, but that's okay.

When he plants a kiss on the top of my head, I get the feeling everything will be fine. I know that he doesn't even have to apologize, and he knows too. I've said enough for the both of us.

It's becoming awkward again as we walk silently around the block in the warm night, his arm still holding me securely. And he stops, his mouth to my ear, sending chills right through me, just like I did to him earlier. Maybe there's more to us than I thought, a push and pull.

"I'll love you no matter who you are."

So we're not perfect, but we're close enough.


	11. Heartbroken

As always, your feedback is greatly appreciated- I would particularly love to hear what you think about this chapter-- what you think about how it was written, the repercussions, etc. It would help me loads.

Oh, what else can I say about this chapter? Forgive me?

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Heartbroken

Robert. Rob. Robbie. Bob. Just what the hell am I supposed to call this guy? He's my stepfather, which in itself is a weird enough concept.

Jack and I are on our way to my mom's place- which is new, according to Jack. _Rob_ must have bought it for her. I might as well get all of this snarky attitude out now, before I take it all out on the poor guy. Maybe he's nice enough.

"What's he like? Rob, I mean."

His eyes travel off of the road to meet mine briefly. Brief is good, because I'm still really fucking scared to ride in a car. For some reason, Jack wouldn't let me drive, even though I was only joking when I offered. Ha.

"He's a nice guy, good golf partner," he grins. "You always seemed to like him. As much as you'd let yourself, anyway."

Whew. So I didn't let Rob become my replacement dad. My real dad- the bastard- wasn't much competition, but I still can't imagine anyone ever replacing him. It's weird to think that Rob and Jack are buddy-buddy though, because Jack hardly seems like the golf-playing type, even if he _is _a doctor.

"Jack?"

"Hmm?" He looks distracted, and it's probably because things between us have been well above our average awkward existence. It's been painful, and last night I started getting the urge to open all the windows in the apartment and scream out of them again. Or jump.

"Turn around. I don't want to meet him. I can't," I panic, because the last thing I've been since the crash is rational. Head trauma will do that to you.

What if he doesn't like me? What if I don't like him? What if he's really creepy? What if he has an old man tan? Oh God.

"Jesus Christ, Kate, I'm not turning the damn car around," he tells me, though he's chuckling lightly and shaking his head. "It'll be fine. You'll be fine."

"Is he bald?"

"Kate," he says simply, throwing me a looks that says I just asked the stupidest question ever.

I don't know what he's trying to get at- bald men creep me out. He has to know that.

I roll my eyes. "Is he?" I practically demand.

Jack doesn't answer, only letting an impish grin rest on his face, and he doesn't even budge when I scoot over in my seat and wrap my fingers around his bicep, like I'm going to squeeze the answer out of him.

"We're here." He puts the car in park and yanks his arm away from me. I try not to let the disappointment show on my face as we're walking to the front door. How can he turn from amused to almost angry so quickly? Though this is probably one of those pot calling the kettle black moments.

Shit, this house is _nice_. We weren't exactly poor when I was growing up, but I sure did get a lot of hand me downs from my cousins and eat macaroni out of a box fairly often. I bet little Jack had his own personal servant or something. Jerk.

Oh no. Bald man approaching. And he's orange. He has an old man tan. This is terrible.

He and Jack shake hands when we enter the foyer, sharing some joke that I don't think is the least bit funny.

Ugh. He's looking at me with his beady little eyes. Stop that. "Kate," he says warmly, pulling me into a hug like we're old friends. I'm as stiff as a corpse in his arms, and he releases me quickly, I'm sure realizing that I don't really know who the fuck he is.

"Of course," he says, and Jack throws me a questionable glance. "I kind of forgot…"

"Yeah." I seem to be the only one who never forgets. Well, I kind of have forgotten a few years… err never mind.

"I'm Rob." Extending his hand out towards mine, I want to laugh at the formality of it all. But then again, despite his orangeness, and his baldness, Rob's the first person that's actually bothered to introduce himself to me. Everyone else, except Jack, really, has just expected me to pretend I remember them.

Good job, Rob. I might just like you, after all.

"Oh, I see the two of you have met! Again." My mom comes bouncing down the stairs, hugging me tightly. I still think our situation is weird- we've never been this close before, but I guess some changes after the accident haven't been so bad. "So?" she asks me expectantly.

So what? I'm thinking this must be the part where she wants me to gush about her husband. Yeah, I think I'll skip that.

"Diane," Jack smiles, saving me from answering my mother's awkward question, as he pulls her into a short hug.

"So how's everything going? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!"

Jesus, mom, I saw you like, four days ago. The world has come to an end.

"We're good," Jack says, as we take a seat on a plush couch in the living room. I can't really tell if he's lying to please my mother, or if we really are good now.

"Still getting used to everything, I guess," I pipe in, rubbing my hands on my jeans. Why am I so nervous?

Rob leans his elbows on his knees, giving me a perfect view of his shiny head. I can practically see my reflection in it. "How has the adjustment been? It must be hard," he sympathizes. I should really stop mocking this guy. He's nice. He seems to understand this more than my mom does.

"Yeah. It is. Jack's been helpful, though. Lucy, too." Jack turns his head and I offer him a shy smile. He smiles back, and he means it- it shows in his eyes. On the cushion beside me sits his hand, and I absently cover his with mine. He doesn't pull away.

"Glad to hear the two of you are doing okay," Rob smiles warmly. "I don't know what we'd do if you weren't. Host some kind of intervention, I suppose," he laughs.

Seriously, does our relationship really mean that much to other people? Why should it? It's _ours_. And I don't know what his definition of okay is, but Jack and I probably don't qualify. We're kind of a mess.

"Have you thought about going back to the clinic yet? It might be good for you to get out of the house more," my mom says, raising her eyebrows at me. Like I haven't thought of this a million times. Like I haven't wished I could remember how to do something I love. Do I have to explain this to her again? I'm not a vet anymore. I don't know how to be.

"Diane," Rob warns her, and it suddenly dawns on her what I was thinking. "Of course, dear. I'm sorry. It's just hard not having you… be you, I don't know."

If she thinks it's hard for her, try stepping in my shoes for a day. But instead of saying something I can't take back, I switch the subject.

"So, do you have pictures of your wedding I could see? Maybe I'll remember something," I offer, even though I'm pretty positive I won't. I haven't remembered anything since I jumped out of the closet and scared Margo. Yeah, and that turned out to be _such_ a good day.

"Ooh, yes, I'll be right back!" she beams, jogging into a room connected to the living room, divided by a soft green wall.

"She goes nuts over weddings," Rob scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully.

Mom comes back in the room and hands me a thick white album with the words 'Our Wedding' in cursive silver print on the front. It cracks when I open it, and Jack scoots closer to me so he can look at the pictures too.

She looks beautiful, and so happy. So does Rob, and I guess I'm starting to accept the fact that she's finally moved on. She deserves to be happy for putting up with my dad for all those years. Her dress is fantastic, and Rob looks sharp in his tuxedo.

Crap. That is a hideous dress I'm wearing. I couldn't have picked that out. It's… pink. Pink! And there's a giant ruffle hanging off the bottom. The sleeves are capped and puffy, and I look like the 80s threw me up.

"Only the best for my matron of honor," she tells me softly.

Seriously? I mean, I know the dress is so ugly I can hardly look at it, can hardly believe I _let _her dress me in it, but I'm touched. I'm not the first person I would think to be her matron of honor. I still don't feel close enough to her to say anything, so I skim my hands over the soft paper of the pages, taking in the scenes of the reception.

Jack's beside me now, his side pressed into mine, his head craned, looking at the pictures, but it seems like I've only just become aware of his presence. My side tingles, but he doesn't seem to think anything of it. Then I come to it. Quite possibly the most adorable picture I've ever seen.

"I kind of snuck up on you. I'm a sap," Rob says bashfully. "Couldn't resist."

Jack wraps an arm around my waist, and I can almost feel him smiling into me. He probably wishes things were still like this between us.

It looks like we were slow dancing, his arms wrapped tight around my waist, mine around his neck, playing with his hair under my fingertips. But his head is ducked down, nuzzled into my neck, and I'm laughing like there's no tomorrow.

I want to remember that exact moment.

"Your wedding was actually fun," Jack tells my mom, smiling at her.

"Looks like it," I say. From everything I've seen, Jack and I looked like we were a fun couple to be around. We looked in love. But that was before all of this, before there was so much static, so much… doubt between us.

My mom sits back in her chair after bringing us drinks from the kitchen. "I'm glad the two of you let go for awhile. Those were a tough couple of days if I remember right…"

Umm, okay? Care to explain?

"Wasn't that after you found out-?" Jack clears his throat loudly, cutting her off.

"What?" It's obvious Jack doesn't want me to know something, or my mom has just touched on a subject we haven't discussed yet. "Jack? After we found out what?"

There's a heavy, beyond awkward silence that fills the room, and even though I don't have the slightest clue what's going on, I'm pretty sure I don't want to find out. I'm pretty sure I can't handle anything else.

"Kate," he starts, taking my hand and pulling me from the couch. My mom nods at him. "Take all the time you need, Jack."

My eyes must be bugging out of my head by now, and I could swear I'm breaking out in a cold sweat.

"What's going on?" I ask him, my eyes pleading with his, full of concern. "Why'd it turn so quiet in there all of a sudden?"

He sits on the loveseat, dropping his head into his hands and rubbing his hair. It's what he does when he's stressed, or worried. "Kate," he says again. He doesn't know what to say. This must be bad.

"Just tell me, Jack. Whatever it is, just tell me."

He sighs heavily. "Kate…"

"Stop saying Kate! Just tell me what's going on!"

"You know how we've been a little on edge lately? Over the whole 'children' discussion the other night?"

How could I forget?

"Jack, we practically didn't speak to each other for three days. Of course I know," I tell him sarcastically.

"I didn't want to make you more upset than you already are about everything, so I just decided that not talking about it was better for you."

"How's that your decision to make?"

He shakes his head. "It's not, I know. But I just… I don't want you to hate me, Kate."

"Did you cheat on me? Is that it?"

He better not have.

"No, no. Never," he says seriously. "I would never do that."

"Okay. So what is it? Why are you so worried about what I'll think?"

Jack stands and grasps his hands in mine, but it's not what I want right now. I just want him to tell me what made everyone in the living room turn silent. I want to know what the big deal is.

"I was going to tell you. I promise I was. You have to believe me," he tells me softly. His eyes look watery, full of emotion. "I was thinking it all over, when we caught up with each other on the sidewalk last night…"

"What? God, Jack. What were you going to tell me?"

He seems to have ignored my request. "But then you hugged me, and our fight was practically over, and you whispered in my ear that you wanted children more than anything. That you couldn't imagine not having them…"

"Yeah, I did." Please don't tell me what I think you're going to tell me. Don't. I can't handle it.

Eyes blinking closed quickly, he's practically staring at the ground, until I cup his chin in my hand and force him to look me in the eye.

"When I said you didn't want kids before, it was true, alright? You just never wanted them that much, I'm sure you can remember that. It shouldn't be a surprise, really."

He's confusing the hell out of me, but I have a creeping feeling inside that I know what he's going to say, what he's trying so desperately to tell me in the right way.

"Kate, last night you told me that you couldn't imagine not having kids, and I didn't have the heart to tell you then that you- that you can't. You just can't," he mumbles, but I'm practically numb right now. "We found out a few days before your mom's wedding. That's why she said she was glad we let go for awhile."

I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about this. Am I supposed to be angry at Jack? At myself? Sad?

More like heartbroken.


	12. Make This Right

Sorry for the delay once again. School is kicking my ass, but it'll be done with soon enough! Well, you'll certainly notice one thing drastically different about this chapter! I've been playing with it in my mind since the beginning, and I finally decided to do it. If you're wondering, it won't be a regular thing, and overall the story isn't changing perspectives. Hope you like it and I would love for the feedback to continue!

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Make This Right

For once in my life, there's something I can't fix, no matter how hard I try or how stubborn I become. Just because you wish something isn't true doesn't make it any less real.

And through all of this- the accident, the amnesia, the baby stuff- believe me, I've tried.

Finding out we couldn't have kids was even harder than I'd ever imagined- not that I had often. I've always wanted kids, and when I met someone who wanted the same things I did, I guess everything fell into place. Maybe I've just always wanted to be the kind of parent mine never were. Now none of that matters, because if there's one thing all of this has taught me it's that it doesn't always matter what you want or how bad you want it. Sometimes things just don't work. Won't work.

And having to tell Kate all over again? It was even harder than waiting for her to wake up from that coma. It was hell.

Work is only sometimes a distraction. I find myself spacing out, wondering if Kate's at home moping around like she always is when I get home. I don't know what to say to her, because I remember how inconsolable she was when we first found out. What kind of cruel force would make her go through this twice, even if she doesn't remember the first time?

I guess there's not much excuse for why I didn't tell her that she couldn't have kids when she began talking about them again. I'm a doctor, so I guess I should be used to telling people all kinds of bad news, but this was different. Kate's my wife, and I was just supposed to blurt out that kind of news?

Sometimes, out of the blue, I catch myself imagining our family, even though I know I shouldn't- a little girl with light brown hair and Kate's bright eyes, her hair in curly pigtails, a little boy who has my smile and dark hair…

Kate's mad at me, just like I suspected she would be once she found out, but really I'm the least important part of this equation. Of course I want us to be better, but mostly I want _her _to be better. She's not, and now she's found out something heartbreaking. And naturally, I feel helpless.

As I'm jiggling the lock on the apartment door, I'm suddenly terrified of what I'll find when I walk in. She doesn't move when I open the door and stride into the living room, curled into a ball on the plush, dark couch. From the way her body moves I can tell she's crying.

I've decided many times before, with all previous girlfriends and the like, that crying is the absolute worst. There must be some set of words that would comfort each and every one of them, but I've never found them. Rubbing her back and telling her everything will be okay _isn't _okay, because I don't know what she expects out of me, out of _us_, or really how she's feeling other than devastated. I can't tell her how to feel about this because I've never been entirely sure how Kate dealt with it in the past. After we found out that her right fallopian tube was damaged beyond repair, so damaged that the chance of her having kids is less than 3, she didn't want to talk about it.

"Hey," she mumbles, turning slightly, but her voice is still muffled by the pillow she's hugging.

The small carrier in my right hand begins to move and whines emerge through the slots in the front.

So maybe a present won't make everything better, but at this point I can't really get any lower on her list. The soft whimpers don't seem to gather her attention, so I open the cage and pull the puppy out- a tiny black lab, one of her favorites. I rescued him from the Humane Society since I know she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Oh," she calls out, a little startled by the paws prowling all over her. She rolls over and smiles as the puppy stands on her chest, looking at her with mischief.

Finally. Even if it's the only smile I get out of her for a while, it's worth it.

"Jack?" she questions me with her eyes. "Why'd you do this?" Picking the puppy up on his underneath, she cuddles him to her chest and squirms when he licks her face.

I shrug. It was kind of an impulse. On my way home I always pass the shelter, and I thought maybe Kate has been lonelier than she'd like to admit.

Or maybe I just can't get it out of my mind that _I'm _lonelier than I've ever been.

"Just thought you could use some company since I've been pretty lousy lately," I tell her, and these words actually seem to get to her, like nothing has over the past few days. I was starting to think she would be in a permanent state of disbelief.

"He's perfect," she smiles, though I know it's only temporary and soon enough she'll remember that she's mad at me. That I betrayed her. "I can't believe he's sleeping," she whispers, finally lifting her gaze up to meet mine.

Lately every time Kate's green eyes have stared into mine, I've been reminded of the first time I got to look into them. Sure, she may not have loved me, or hell, even _liked _me, but I'll never forget how piercing, how intense her stare was.

"So, uhh, how was today?" I ask her hesitantly, reaching absently to her cheeks to wipe away the wet tears that rest there. It seems like she flinches when my thumb makes contact with her skin.

Her head ducks again, and I know I've brought up the wrong thing, and too soon at that. "Just trying to wrap my mind around it all," she confesses.

"Yeah," is all I can offer, and I'm starting to think this is going to be another teary moment that I have no idea how to handle. I hate this. I know I should be more thankful than I'm acting that Kate is okay after that horrible crash- I felt like my world had crumbled down when I got the call, when I went to the hospital and watched her lie motionless for over week. She wasn't my wife. That wasn't Kate.

Her eyes well up again, and I lean back into the couch, almost defeated. "I just… why didn't you tell me, Jack? I don't understand why you'd put me through this when you knew I'd find out eventually."

I was afraid she'd ask something like that. Doesn't she know how hard it was for me to tell her? Doesn't she know how many times I almost blurted it out? Doesn't she know how much it changed our relationship the first time around? How much it changed _us_?

"I don't know… how to explain it," I offer meekly. "I didn't want to hurt you more."

She's silent for some time, leaving me thinking that once again I've said the wrong thing, that I've managed to make her feel even worse. And when she finally speaks, it's not exactly what I want to hear. "Before all this I trusted you." There's a pain in her eyes that I've never seen before. Hurt. Betrayal. Fright? "I doubted myself, Jack. I doubted that I was supposed to be falling for you so quickly, even though you're my husband, even though we obviously had some kind of connection that made me want to marry you in the first place."

"And now?" It's the only thing I can think to ask, even though she's already told me I can't be trusted.

"Now I feel like we're back at the beginning… Now I feel like I don't know the whole story and that I can't depend on you to tell me."

I guess that means it's time to air the dirty laundry, if she'll give me the chance.

"This is the worst of it," I whisper to her, because it really was the most horrible time of our relationship. "I don't have any other secrets from you."

The way she looks at me, I can't stand to look back. There's something there that tells me, without her having to voice it, that it's not going to work. At least not now. Her hand absently strokes the sleeping dog on her stomach, and even though her legs are draped across mine, I've never felt further away.

"I think I just need some time, you know?" she tells me, moving a hand to my kneecap and squeezing. Sometimes I wish that my body didn't react to her the way it does. Sometimes I wish I could stop caring. "Lucy just got a new place-"

"No," I cut her off. She can't move out. "You're not even giving us a chance," I argue.

Kate shakes her head. "I need this, Jack. I need to think about things without having to worry about you and about our relationship. I need some time by myself, okay?"

No, it's not okay. She's my wife. She can't just move out when things get tough. I tell her this.

"It'll be better for us. I promise." She attempts a small smile in my direction, but it seems forced.

"So moving in with Lucy, your self-destructive friend … that's going to solve everything?"

Her eyes pierce into mine again, and the puppy jumps up from her lap as if he can sense the tension. Even he doesn't want to be here.

"Just let it go. I won't be gone forever," she tries

I shake my head as she says this. "Kate, I saw you lying in a coma for eight days, and there were so many moments when I tried to accept that you were gonna be gone forever. I tried to picture my life without you, and I couldn't."

I know she's going through a lot, but she has no idea what I went through during those eight days, trying to stay positive, to believe in her, praying to a God that I don't even think exists that she'd survive.

Leaning forward, I pull her body close to mine, inhaling her comforting scent that never seems to change, even when everything else around us has. Surprisingly she lets me, wrapping her arms around my neck tightly and breathing onto my shoulder.

"I have to make this right," I whisper in her ear, gripping her hips and pulling her as tightly against me as I can. Her cheeks are smooth and soft against my rough fingers as I cup her face, feeling as close to her as she's let me. Maybe we're both just vulnerable. Maybe tomorrow I'll regret everything I've said to her.

And then her lips brush against mine, pausing, completely still, like she's breathing me in and I'm returning the favor. I wouldn't say that it feels right, but it feels better. We feel better. Then she moves again, her soft lips against mine more unfamiliar than I'd ever like to admit, like I'm kissing a complete stranger. I feel like this is the goodbye, and Kate's trying to convey everything in this kiss, instead of in words.

She nips at my bottom lip with her teeth and I suck in a sharp breath, because it's a move that's so Kate it almost makes me think we've moved back in time. This almost feels normal. When she pulls away from my mouth, it's only slightly, so I can still feel her breath mingling with mine, can still feel her heart beating against my chest.

Part of me thinks Kate gets pleasure out of torturing me like this, because she sucks lightly just below my ear, cradling her head in my neck and I can feel the warm tears fall onto my skin.

"No," she whispers shakily, drawing my mouth against her collarbone, and I rest my chin there. I know there's no winning in this situation. Kate's already made up her mind. "We both have to make this right."

Apart.


	13. Nameless

Thanks for your reviews. Could use some help on what to name the dog- part of me thinks Kate can't think of anything because _I _can't. :)

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Nameless

This was probably a bad idea, but I've been changing my mind hourly.

"Kate, get in here!" Lucy yells from the next room. When I enter her bedroom, already decorated in a soft peach color even though she's just moved in a few days ago, Lucy's struggling with a box planted on the top shelf of her closet, the weight of it dangerously teetering above her.

"God, I told you to wait for me before you did this," I sigh as we collectively lift the large box above our heads and bring it down to the floor. "What the hell is in here anyway?"

Even though we've been friends forever, I really had no idea what kind of useless shit Lucy has kept around all these years, even through the times when we both lived in apartments that could probably be classified as closets.

Her face flushes with embarrassment while she plants her palms heavily on the lid of the box so I can't open it. There's a flash of white peeking out the side, and I instantly know what it is she doesn't want me to see.

"Is this your-"

"Shut up," she interjects, tugging the cardboard away from me, dragging it over the carpet and shoving it under the bed. "I just need to hang onto it, okay? At least for a little longer," she explains. A second later, she's pulling out the veil, smoothing her hands over the lace of the fabric and giving it a whimsical look, like she's wishing things had turned out differently between her and Ted.

I sit down on her bed, gladly forgetting my problems, even if it's just for a little while, to concentrate on hers. After all, I've promised myself several times since the whole coma thing that I'd try to make all of this a little less about me.

"Do you still talk? To Ted, I mean."

Lucy shrugs, at first giving off the impression that she doesn't want to talk about it. "When I have to. It's harder than I thought it'd be. Towards the end we were so distant I didn't think it would really be that big of a deal to be apart, but it's been… a challenge, I guess."

I nod at her, though I don't think I've ever had this experience, and I can't really think of any way to relate. She looks so defeated, and suddenly I'm reminded why we've always been so close; why I love her so much. Lucy may have a funny way of showing it, but she's always there to pick me up, and I'm always there for her. Even _I _can remember that.

Ted was never my favorite guy, but he wasn't so bad that I wished a painful divorce on the two of them. I want nothing more for Lucy than for her to be happy, and I can't help but think she's not.

As soon as her emotion was let out, she shuts it in again, waving her hand through the air as if to dismiss the conversation. "I kind of want to forget the bastard," she says gruffly, sarcastically. "Let's not talk about him anymore."

If there's one thing I know about Lucy it's that she won't let anyone force her into doing anything. It's fair to say that 90 percent of the time, she gets what she wants. Maybe that sounds harsh or even judgmental, but it's not- a fact is a fact.

I let out a heavy sigh as we're unpacking a large box which seems to be entirely filled with pajamas. "So, how many times has Jack called you today?"

I roll my eyes at her. "I'm not counting," I mutter, folding a small pair of shorts and lying them flat in her fabric-lined drawer.

"That's bullshit, Kate," she tells me. "I see you looking at your phone every two minutes." Her eyes light up with laughter, and even though it's at my expense, I'm happy to see her smiling.

Okay, so I've been a bit obsessed. I don't know what made me think that spending time apart- no, living apart, would really help us solve anything, but it's too late to second guess my decision. I packed up my suitcase and headed over here a half our after our conversation. Jack didn't let me go easily, and he almost made me not want to leave.

"Seven," I mutter, knowing she'll force the number out of me anyway. Secretly it makes me almost giddy that he's been calling so much- that he wants to talk with me _that _much.

Lucy glances at the bedside clock. "Jesus, Kate, I've never taken Jack for such a stalker. It's not even eleven!"

I shrug my shoulders. "He wants me to come back, Luce. And I'm starting to think he might have the right idea."

"Do I have to remind you what happened?" She looks at me like I'm stupid, like thinking about moving back so soon is crazy.

"He _couldn't _tell me. He didn't want to hurt me any more," I try, looking down at the carpet because the last thing I want to do is meet Lucy's judgmental stare.

"But he ended up doing just that," she points out, and I know she's right. I should be madder at Jack for what he did, but lately I've just been mad at myself.

All I've done lately is think about all this, and about how it makes me feel, what it means for Jack and I, but I still haven't really come to a conclusion. I guess that's the point of me being here, though. "I won't lie and say I'm not angry with him and that I trust him like I used to, but I'm kind of over blaming him for all this, ya know?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she mumbles, sitting next to me on the bed. "You're acting like he forgot to tell you he had to work late, or that you were out of milk or something." She pauses and I'm getting kind of irritated, so I decide that saying nothing is better. There's probably no one who can get on my bad side so quickly. "Kate, he kinda forgot to tell you about the whole you have a bum fallopian tube and can't have children thing," she lets out in a long breath.

Ahh, God Lucy, just shut the fuck up. Doesn't she know how much I've thought about this? How much I d_on't _want to think about this? "He didn't _forget _to tell me," I defend myself, "He didn't _want _to tell me." I stand up quickly and walk out of the room, not wanting the situation to escalate any further.

"Don't let that freaking dog piss on the carpet again!" she yells after me, so I scoop him up in my arms, cuddling him to my chest. I can't decide what to name him, and sometimes I don't even want to love him as much as I do, because all he does is remind me of Jack.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and of course I know who's calling. I pull the phone out and watch the small screen until it tells me 'call missed'. Number eight.

Yesterday I went to the doctor for a checkup. Not the brain doctor, because he doesn't seem to be doing much good, since I still can't remember much of anything. No, I got the treat of going to the lady doctor. She told me all about my 'bum' fallopian tube, as Lucy so delicately terms it, and how my chances of conceiving are less that five percent, but other than that, things are normal. Normal? Right.

And less than five percent? I don't like those odds.

I fell apart at the office, because hearing it from a doctor other than Jack made it seem that much more real, and that much more insurmountable. Of course, Jack and I would have to be having sex for anything to be surmountable, but right now, that's beside the point. Knowing that I'm not able to have kids makes me want them that much more. It seems like that's always how life works.

This situation is harder to deal with because at least I have some hope it getting my memory back. But this? It won't just fix itself, no matter how much time passes. There's nothing to be optimistic about.

My phone buzzes again, but this time I flip it open with almost no thought. "Jack?" I ask him.

"Oh," he hesitates. "Hey. I wasn't expecting you to answer."

It's the first time I've heard him sound so nervous and unsure of himself, his normal calm and level-headed demeanor replaced with anxiousness.

"Yeah," I reply lamely, because even after everything I've thought about over the past few days I still have nothing to say to him.

"How's Lucy's?"

"Fine," I answer shortly. "Everything okay at home- the apartment?" I correct myself quickly.

There's a long pause over the line. "It's your home, Kate," he tells me softly. "And you're not here, so no, everything's not really okay."

I know he doesn't mean to irritate me like this, but we've only been apart for three days. He's only given me three days to deal with all of this, and suddenly everything is supposed to be okay?

"We'll be better off because of this," I say quietly back. "Lucy's kind of driving me crazy," I add.

Jack sighs heavily into the receiver. "So there's nothing I can do? Nothing that will make you come back?"

"No." I want to go back to the apartment, to the place that was just starting to feel like home. But I know that it's too soon, that we'll probably make things worse.

"Okay," he sighs. "Will you please just let me know if you need anything?"

He sounds kind of desperate, so I agree, if only to get him off my case. "You've been pretty persistent with the calls, Jack," I say in a tone that is almost verging on teasing.

"Well I know what I want," he offers in a confident voice.

Talking his way back into it isn't what I want to happen, so I respond with a cool, "Well right now, I know what I want too."

"How's the dog?"

"Fine. Still haven't named him, though."

"Any ideas?"

"Not really, no," I hesitate. Could this conversation be any more awkward?

"Kate!" Lucy screams again, but for once I'm glad for the interruption.

I get up from the couch and pace around the room. "Look, Jack, I've gotta go. Lucy needs my help."

He sighs again. "Am I gonna have to keep calling you over and over, or will you answer from now on?"

The truth is, every single time he's called I've had to fight not to answer. I want to hear his voice, even though it's betrayed me, I want to hear his words even though they've hurt me so much. And right now, while he's practically pleading with me to talk with him, I want to look into his eyes, even though I trusted their depths from the beginning and I turned out to be wrong.

"I don't know," I offer. "I just don't… know what's best right now, ya know?"

His tone comes out bitterly, and he stifles what I can tell is a sarcastic laugh. "And what we're doing right now? _This _is the best? _This _is going to fix everything?"

"I have to go," I press, getting irritated at his insistence that I'm wrong. "Bye, Jack."

"Uhh, I know- I know I haven't really told you this a lot lately, but I just… I love you, okay? I just want you to come back," he says, his voice now soft, trying one last time, but I won't budge.

"I know."

I flip my phone shut, rubbing my temples and wondering what the hell just happened.

"Kate! Seriously, get in here!" Luce yells again, so I go, noticing the puppy standing guiltily in the middle of her bedroom floor, a suspicious looking stain on the light carpet below him.

"Sorry," I try, looking at the pissed off expression on Lucy's face, realizing not for the first time that my time here is extremely limited.

Well, I guess I have two choices: Be miserable with Lucy, or miserable with Jack.


	14. Talking to Walls

I've spoiled you with a super fast update because of the holiday, now you can spoil me by reviewing. :)

* * *

Talking to Walls

"Good, you finally answered."

It's my second conversation with Jack since I "moved" to Lucy's, which basically consisted of me throwing some clothes into my suitcase in a fit of rage. Okay, so I'm not the most rational person, I'll admit it. By now I've realized that I forgot some major things- underwear, deodorant, or any clothes other than sweats, really. And I would be lying if I said I had a problem buying all of these things and charging them on Jack's credit card. Ha.

Right now Jack can probably picture exactly what I'm doing; twirling a strand of my curly hair through my free hand, rolling my eyes at his countless attempts to be forgiven. "Never promised you anything," I tell him coolly. I hear him sigh and can't help but think that pretty soon his patience will run out and he'll be just as mad at me as I am at him. Maybe that would be easier.

"Well, just the same."

There's certain flatness in his voice, and I almost feel bad for him. "What do you need, Jack?" The thing is, I know he doesn't need anything from me. He just wants to talk, to try to convince me to move back with him. It's nice to know he cares, but doesn't he understand that what I need right now is space?

"I don't know. Just to hear your voice, I guess. Is that such a bad thing?"

Certainly I've never felt so needed in my entire life. Even though at the moment I feel like a completely useless individual, (hell, I'm the chick who can't remember part of my life and can't seem to deal with anything like a rational, functioning adult) Jack- he still needs me. I still mean s_omething _to him, though just what that is I'm not sure.

"No, guess not," I mumble. "But the whole point of this- of me getting out of the apartment for awhile is for me to think some things over, without you, and you calling me all the time…"

He laughs, and it seems genuine. What the hell? I haven't said anything funny! "Kate, I'm not going to stop, so you might as well give it up now."

Great. Now I'm the girl who can't remember anything, who can't have kids, and who has a stalker for a husband. Just great. I should be on Dateline or something.

"Well I just won't answer then," I stutter out. There, that showed him.

"Yeah," he says, "because that's worked out just great for you." He laughs again, but this time we fall into a silence that somehow turns into something comfortable, like when he grins at me reassuringly or gives me a big hug after a long day.

"There has to be something else I did wrong," he finally says. "I mean, I know that I should've been more forward with you about all of the fertility stuff, but that can't be it, right?"

'He should've been more forward about all the fertility stuff' is putting it lightly. "No, Jack, that's about it actually." Is this man dense? How did he become a doctor?

Sometimes, just like my mom always used to say, I feel like I'm talking to a wall- a very hot wall, but a wall nonetheless.

"Nah," he disagrees, "I think you're just afraid of us. I think you're afraid to start our life all over again, and-"

This guy has balls, telling me what I've done wrong and that _I'm _the problem? "Jack, please," I tell him in my sternest voice.

"You're afraid of me, aren't you?" he asks, though it's more of a statement. "It's me."

Maybe he's right- maybe I really I am just afraid of what my life could turn into, that if I start shaping it into something, one day I'll wake up and remember everything how it was before, and then I'll have to do this all over again. I don't want to have to do this all over again, because apparently, I can't even do it to begin with. It's not Jack that I'm afraid of. I'm mostly afraid of myself and for myself.

But instead of telling him all of this, I nod my head into the phone, even though he can't see. My pause tells him everything. "I just… " Shit, I don't know how to say this. "When I came home with you, you were a complete stranger who I had to get to know, only I didn't really get to know you that well before I just… trusted you. Just like that." I snap my fingers into the receiver as I say this.

Jack projects an uncertain, nervous laugh. "I don't see why that's a bad thing, Kate. I'm glad that you trust me…"

"That's the thing… I don't really anymore, not after the whole baby thing. It's just- I need to learn how to trust you again, okay?"

I know that I must have just stomped all over his heart, but maybe he'll feel just a fraction of what I feel.

He's silent once again, save for the steadiness of his breathing. "Okay?" I repeat, willing him to say something, anything.

"Yeah," he mumbles softly. "Okay."

After I've hung up with Jack, my phone buzzes once again. My mother's smiling face appears on the caller ID and I jump, not sure how or why I have a picture of her on my phone. She's creeping me out.

"Come over for dinner," she tells me after our standard jibber jabber. "It's probably none of my business, but Lucy's told me everything that's going on with you and Jack."

Great. Just the person I need to talk to, the woman who seems to make me think about my problems even more. But I agree anyway, because that's the type of person I am.

"I don't think he meant to hurt you," Rob rationalizes half an hour later, stirring his drink while mom chops up some vegetables. She made it seem like she'd be full of advice, but so far all mom's done is ask me if I've been getting enough sleep, and if I'm not careful, the bags under my eyes will stick there permanently. I decide not to tell her that I've been sleeping on a saggy pull out couch for the past five days.

I like Rob so much more than I ever imagined I could. Sometimes, as horrible as it sounds, I've found myself thinking that I like Rob more than my own mother. I'm such a terrible person and it makes me feel like maybe I deserve everything that's happening to me. But then again, I guess like is different than love, because I don't love Rob, but I certainly love my mother, no matter how irritating she can be. This all reminds me of Jack, who I know I don't love- at least not yet. He's a nice guy, and I could see myself falling for him even further than I have, but it's certainly not love.

"That's the thing, Rob. He did it because he didn't want to hurt me, but that just makes me wonder what else he's holding back, like one day he's gonna drop another bombshell on me."

Rob shakes his head, squinting his eyes down at the newspaper. "I don't know what else to tell ya, kid, other than the two of you had it pretty good. That's gotta be worth something."

"Hey Rob, will you set the table for me please?" my mother calls from the kitchen counter.

He shrugs and looks at me again. "My advice, and it's only that… you two don't need to be apart right now-"

"Rob!" she yells again. "I swear, it's like I'm talking to a wall!" I hear her mutter.

Oh God. It's finally happening again.

"_Jack, shut up, I'm trying to play!"_

_He rolls his eyes and tries to tug my hand away from the lever. "This is such a waste of time! Those things are rigged!" he tells me, looking pointedly at the slot machine in front of me, still resting his hand on top of mine._

"_I don't care, snugglemuffins, I'm playing." I put the coins in and close my eyes tightly. We don't really need the money- I'd rather just prove Jack wrong. _

"_Are you sure?" he taunts me, standing tightly behind me and moving his arms forward so they rest on my outstretched ones. His breath is on my ear, and he knows he's getting to me, that it _always _gets to me._

_I nod. "Fairly. I'm not listening to the guy who just lost 400 bucks in chips," I smirk. "And besides," I wiggle my eyebrows up and down at him, "you've already gotten plenty lucky here, wouldn't you agree?"_

_He shrugs. "Maybe, but I think I have one more streak in me. This _is_ Vegas," Jack laughs, kissing the side of my neck and brushing his stubble against it. "Give it a go."_

_I pull down hard on the lever, watching the symbols appear one by one, until there are three shapes lined up next to each other. I smirk, then spin around in the stool and pull Jack at the hips. "Look who just made us 800 bucks richer. Guess it was rigged, huh?" I laugh, as he leans down and wraps his arms around me, picking me up._

_He kisses me, long and hard, too long for being the middle of a casino. He nips at my lips, and as good as it feels, I break away. "Jack," I whisper, my voice hitching high with a small laugh. "People are staring."_

_He gives me a peck on the lips and sets me down. "I'd stare too," he smiles. He kisses me again, and I know I'm only getting a preview of what's to come, once we abandon the casino and head back up to the room, but I'm embarrassed. _

"_Jack, God, it's like I'm talking to a wall… Let's save this for upstairs, yeah?"_

_He rolls his eyes at the expression. "Oh, come on, Kate. If I remember right, you can't resist this wall." He points to himself and plays up the smirk on his face. "You can't keep your hands off it, you talk _naughty _to it," he teases, trailing his fingertips lightly up and down my hips. _

"_Shut up," I smile, tugging on his hands and leading him into the elevator, "or the wall won't get lucky tonight."_

It stops right there. I can't remember anything else. But for now, it's enough. I can't seem to tell mom and Rob what I've remembered, not only because it's kind of, uhh… promiscuous, but because I'm not sure I'll tell anyone. What if I tell Jack about it and it's not quite as I think it is? What if there was some terrible thing that happened that weekend that will tarnish my happy memory?

I excuse myself shortly after dinner, telling mom I'm too tired and that I don't want the bags under my eyes to stay put. Of course she buys it.

"You got a letter!" Lucy shouts as I slam the door shut behind me. She startles me, and even though we've lived together before, I don't remember her being this loud.

She stuffs it into my outreached palm and I lay down on the couch, the puppy jumping onto my lap almost immediately. At least someone's happy to see me. Scanning over the front of the cream colored envelope, I immediately recognize the small scrawled handwriting written in black ink. No nonsense. That's Jack.

It's a single sheet of paper, folded into thirds, the dark ink staining through the back of the paper.

_Kate,_

_You'll be getting one of these letters every day, until I've said enough, or until I've said everything- your choice._

_One time we fought for five days over where we'd go on vacation. You won. We went to Vegas._

_You're the most stubborn person I've ever met, but I wouldn't want it any other way._

_The day we found out we couldn't have kids- it wasn't just the hardest day of your life. It was the hardest day of mine, too._

_Have you noticed that scar on your left knee? I did that to you, the morning after our seventh date. You hit your knee on the bedside table. You can probably guess how._

_By our fifth, I knew I wanted to marry you._

_I've only seen you cry eight times. Three of those have been since the accident._

_On the weekends you won't let me out of bed until at least 9:30._

_You've always wanted to name our next dog Eggo. Hope this helps._

_And every morning when I wake up, I wonder if it'll be the day that you remember me._


	15. Change

Change

Jack's letters are proving to be a test of my willpower. Never one to break a promise, he's sent a steady stream every day, each different, every one making me want to run back to him.

I suppose that's the point, but I never thought they'd work. I never thought I was this impressionable.

Sighing, I stick the tiny gold key into the locked mailbox, giving it a swift turn and jiggling the door open. There's nothing inside.

He forgot.

Damn him for being so charming and then not following through. I walk through the lobby, my eyes trained on the black and white checkered tile, opening the door and heading outside, the warm, balmy, breeze greeting me immediately. I walk around aimlessly before walking back down the sidewalk, plopping down on the bench outside Lucy's building.

I'm so sick of not knowing what to do. I'm sick of not being able to work, I'm sick of being sick of Lucy, I'm sick of feeling like a guest no matter where I stay. I'm sick of everything but those letters.

Eggo pulls on his leash, whimpering, ready to run off and chase birds like he always does. I'd forgotten how demanding puppies are, and it doesn't help that Lucy seems to have an icy cold heart and hates him, affectionately calling him 'that little black shit'. He pulls harder, so I tug him back, pulling my knees up to my chest.

"Jesus, Eggo, what the hell is wrong-"

"Eggo, huh?" Jack asks with a smile. "Glad I could help," he laughs. God he looks good. I must look like a fool, staring at him in his dark jeans and tight white t-shirt, sunglasses framing his tanned face. My heart is pounding.

"You got your hair cut," I point out. What a fucking stupid thing to say, Kate. Two weeks apart and that's what I say to him the first time we're face to face?

He smiles bashfully, running a palm over the buzzed hair. "Uhh, yeah. You usually do it, but you know..."

I nod. "Yeah, guess I haven't been around."

Jack laughs and raises his eyebrows. "Well that, and I was a little scared you'd cut my ear off or something."

He has a point.

His hands are shoved deep in his jeans pockets until he takes one out and motions to the empty space on the bench beside me. "You mind?"

"Sure," I offer, even though I'm not quite sure why the hell he's here, when I'd thought I'd made it pretty clear that I needed some time away.

"So what're you doing here Jack? Come to beg me to come home again?"

I eye the envelope in his hands, noticing that this time it's blank, no name or address written on the front.

"No," he says simply, rubbing behind Eggo's ears when he jumps up on the bench beside him. Damn, I can't even train the dog to hate him. "Just wanted to give you this in person. Thought it was time."

I can't open this thing in front of him. Doesn't he know he has the power to turn me into a blubbering mess every time I read one?

As if he can read my thoughts, he speaks up. "You don't have to open it now if you don't want. Save it for later." He smiles shyly at me and squints in the bright light. In some strange way, through this little separation, I feel like I've learned more about Jack than when we lived together. I know I'll be back with him, I just don't know when.

"So how's it going with Lucy?" he finally asks. It's been a few days since we last talked, so he hasn't gotten all the gossip.

"Oh, you know, she's just being Lucy."

I decide he doesn't need to know that she trashes him and makes fun of him every chance she gets, and that she pretty much hates the dog.

"Eggo pisses everywhere, so that's been a challenge," I laugh, noticing how close our hands are to touching, how there's some sort of tingling feeling in me.

"Ahh," he laughs back, his face quickly turning from amusement to seriousness. "It's nice to see you, you know," he says and looks toward me. I glance away, because I'm afraid to look into those eyes. I'm afraid of what I'll agree to. "It's weird not having you in the apartment."

"Yeah," I agree, because even though I hardly feel like I belong anywhere, our apartment was the closest place to home. "It's kinda weird not waking up beside you," I tell him before I've had the chance to think about it. Why the hell did I just say that? Why Kate, WHY?

He nods. "We could fix that, you know," he says, and then adds, as if it's the most normal suggestion ever, "You could come home."

I close my eyes because I knew this would happen. We're having the same conversation, ending up in the same place, as we do every time we talk on the phone.

"Stop it, okay?" I'm almost as mad as I was the night I packed a suitcase and came to Lucy's. "I know what _you _want me to do, Jack. Believe me. I know what everyone _wants _me to do, and I know what everyone _expects _me to do, but I'm still trying to figure out what _I _need."

I figure Jack will respond how he always does- understandingly, patiently, calmly. Instead, he stands from his seat on the bench, and I can tell he's not happy.

"God, Kate. Look, I know you've been through a lot and I'm sorry for all of it. I'm sorry that you got in the accident, I'm sorry that you can't remember us, and I can't imagine how hard it must be for you. And I'm sorry that we can't have kids, and that I didn't tell you sooner... but how much more of this am I supposed to take until I decide it's enough?"

He's giving me an ultimatum of sorts. I suppose he's right, and if I were in his situation, I would've cracked long before this. I mean, I _am _sort of crazy.

"Okay-"

"And you're selfish, Kate," he interrupts. "So incredibly selfish that sometimes I can't believe you're really the same person I married."

Ouch.

"That's because I'm _not_ the same person! That's what all of this is about, in case you hadn't noticed," I yell back, the tears beginning to sting my eyes, threatening to spill over.

Eggo sits under the bench, hunkering down, waiting for us to turn back into his friendly, loving, owners. He might be waiting awhile.

"And what about me?"

"What about you, Jack? I can't be who you want me to be, who I used to be. I can't be that perfect little wife you came home to every night. I'm not the same person."

And it hits me that I'm really not mad at Jack anymore. In fact, it's not about him much at all. I'm mad at myself for a lot of things- for not remembering much of anything, for not being the same person I was before the crash, for laying blame on Jack for things that were out of his control, but mostly, for not being there for him like he's been there for me.

There's a look of surprise that passes through his eyes. "Did I ever ask you to be?" he asks, his tone finally softening. "Did I ever tell you that's who I expected you to be? I wake up every morning just thankful that you're alive, and even if we're fighting, I'm thankful for the fact that you're still _here _to do it."

Oh God, now I've managed to make him feel guilty. While two weeks ago I would've been thrilled at the thought of Jack having a guilty conscience, all it does now is add to mine.

"Maybe you're not supposed to be the same person," he suggests, sitting down next to me again. "And you know what?" He palms the side of my face so I look toward him. "I'm okay with that."

He's got to be kidding me. I've been about 90 percent bitch, 10 percent awkward fill-in wife, and he's 'okay with it'?

"Well," he adds, as if he can read my mind, and I think not for the first time that he's awfully good at that, "All I ask is that you're a little more thankful for what you _do _have- your family, your friends..."

"Yeah, I get it," I say softly.

God, did he have to rub it in so much? I already know I've been a complete failure post crash. But then again, I guess it's not too much to ask for me to just be myself, whoever that is. It's really all any woman could ask for. A man who wants her for _exactly _who she is? I never thought they existed until now.

We sit in silence for awhile, Eggo finally retreating from his cave under the bench, jumping between us and licking my hand.

"I'm sorry I came," Jack finally says. "I mean, sorry that I'm not really giving you space when that's what you asked for-"

"I'm not," I interrupt him, because I feel like we've finally gotten somewhere. "I'm glad you said what you wanted to say," I tell him honestly. "I needed to hear it."

He laughs at this but holds his hands up as if to protest. "Well, hey, I'm hardly perfect myself."

I look down at my lap because I'm not sure what to say, or where we're supposed to go from here. Are things magically fixed? Am I supposed to go home with him? Should I go upstairs and grab my bags and let him whisk me away into the sunset?

Okay, so I've read one too many of Lucy's cheesy romance novels. Sue me.

There's part of me that would love nothing more than to go back with him and settle into a routine together, get to know him better, maybe even try out a real, functioning relationship, but there's another, pressing, part of me that wants to figure a lot of these things out on my own, like somehow I'll have more to bring to the table if I do it on my own.

Or maybe I'm mistaking independence for reluctance, fear?

"I'm gonna go," he says, breaking my thoughts, letting me know that he's leaving things up to me. I smile weakly back at him, well aware he already knows I'm not coming back with him just yet, forcing myself to ignore the slight drop in his face, the disappointment.

"I'll see you soon, Jack, I promise." He smiles at this, squeezing my hands briefly before pulling his own away, the short contact making my hands feel temporarily fuzzy. My stomach drops.

I smile when he scratches Eggo's chin, the puppy wagging his tail happily and trying to follow him as he walks away.

"Hey," I call out, making him turn around as he pulls his sunglasses from the top of his head and down to the bridge of his nose. I can see his eyebrows raise slightly over top the frames. "Are you still gonna send your letters?"

I hope he does, because they make all of this just a little bit easier.

He smiles that easy, confident smile that only belongs to him, the one that almost always makes me grin in return. "I promised," he laughs lightly, turning on his heel. "Don't forget to open that," he calls back, motioning to the envelope I'm still holding in my hand, then throwing a wave over his shoulder and continuing to walk.

I stand on the sidewalk and watch him stroll away, until he rounds a corner and is out of sight. I'm not really sure what just happened, but whatever it was, it felt good, and I'll go with it for now.

Eggo stands on his hind legs, his front paws near my hips, sniffing the envelope as I tear it open. The same paper as always is inside, folded into thirds, the ink staining through the back. Some things never change.

_You said it was the place we fell in love._

_July 2nd, 7pm, Central Park, meet me in your favorite spot. _

Okay, well that sounds great, but how the hell am I supposed to know where my favorite spot is? I kinda lost my memory, which ironically enough _he _seems to forget quite often.

Then I read on.

_P.S You'll find it. Some things never change. _


	16. Home

_Some things never change._

Sure, tell that to the girl with amnesia. Plenty has changed.

I haven't talked to Jack since our sidewalk encounter a few days ago and I'm starting to get nervous for tomorrow. July 2nd. Central Park, blah blah blah. There's a part of me that wonders if Jack secretly has it out for me. He wants me to wander around Central Park, searching for my favorite spot? Does he know how freaking big that place is? Maybe I'll take Eggo, so it'll at least look like I'm taking my puppy for a walk and not wandering around aimlessly.

"Get off of that, you little shit!" I hear Lucy scream from her bedroom. I sigh, pulling my weight from the couch and walking to the doorway, only to witness Eggo chewing on the dust ruffle framing Lucy's bed.

"Hey," I coax, pulling him from the fabric. "Bad dog!"

I really try my hardest to be stern with him, but those puppy dog eyes...

After Lucy's made sure there's no permanent damage, she flops down on her bed and resumes painting her nails. "So are you excited for today?"

I raise my eyebrows. What the hell else do I have going on today? The only thing I'd planned was trying a new flavor of Hot Pockets for lunch. God I need a life.

"Going to the clinic? Helloo?" she exaggerates, waving her wet nails in front of her, blowing on them.

Apparently repetition doesn't work with any of the freaking people in my life. "I can't work. I. Don't. Remember." I say slowly, rolling my eyes as I turn around, ready to waste another hour of my life watching The Price is Right.

"Well Grace is expecting you, you might want to call her and let her know you're not-"

"When did this happen, Luce? I haven't talked to Grace since we went out to brunch with my mom..."

Suddenly her face falls, and a sheepish smile sweeps across her dark features. "Oh yeah. You're meeting Grace at the clinic today. 12:00. She said something about you taking the State Boards again. Just to see where you're at or something."

I narrow my eyes at her. "When were you going to tell me this?"

"I left you a note!" she retaliates. "I left it on the... nevermind. Sorry."

Okay, so I complain about having nothing to do with myself practically all the time, but going back to work? A place I don't even remember, doing a job that I'm probably not capable of 

anymore? I've been avoiding it for as long as possible, hoping that everyone would conveniently forget, just like I have, what I did with my life over the past four years.

"I'll give you directions," Lucy offers meekly after I question her rapid fire. This time, I decide, she made an honest mistake, but it's just adding to the reasons I already have to move out.

Half an hour later, after I shakily put on my makeup and changed clothes three times, not quite sure what I'm supposed to wear to my pretend job, I'm out the door, walking the five blocks it takes to get to the clinic briskly. I have to take the State Boards? In a vet clinic? I doubt that's... legal.

I do a double take when I reach the building, staring at the narrow brick structure sandwiched between a dry cleaners and a deli. It's cute. I see why I would pick it.

My first instinct when I see Grace coming out of the deli next door is to run away and hide, because really, back when she was the spawn of Satan, that's usually what I did. But now we're friends, I remind myself. The best of friends. We own a business together.

Shit.

"Hey!" she says excitedly, wrapping me in a tight hug and jumping up and down. "I'm so excited that you're here!"

No, really?

"Yeah," I muster. "Lucy actually just told me, so I didn't really know about any of this, and the board, I'm not really sure-"

She blinks like she doesn't understand. "Oh, it'll be fine!" she interrupts. "I'm sure you'll remember more than you think. Always were smarter than me."

Bullshit. Grace outperformed everyone in our class, unless there's something that happened towards the end that I don't know about. Good chance.

"Anyway, it's just a practice test. You won't be able to take the real one here," she laughs, touching my arm lightly as we walk through the door.

Get off of me.

She doesn't, leading me through the tiled waiting room by the arm, introducing me to the receptionist named Linda, who has bleach blond hair and does a terrible job of covering up the fact that she already knows me.

Next I meet Dan, who is fresh out of school. He looks nervous. "Dan's been helping me out," Grace says. "Just while you're gone," she adds.

I muster out a thanks, but don't miss the wink she throws in his direction when we leave the exam room. "Best. Sex. Ever." she laughs giddily, and I don't know whether to play along or go in the other room to throw up.

"Oh, really?" I ask, feigning interest. "How long has this been going on?"

"Oh, you know, like three weeks or something. This place is magic... first you and Jack, now me and Dan..."

I roll my eyes, remembering the story Jack told me about how I cornered him in an exam room and made out with him, which still doesn't seem like me...

"We should bring Luce here," I mutter, expecting a laugh from Grace, but she gasps instead.

"Oh my God, that's such a great idea!"

Funny, I don't remember her being this stupid.

Finally we reach a back room, empty except for some supplies, a desk in the middle of it. "Okay," she starts, "so I pulled a few strings and arranged a practice test for you... I'll basically just set the timer and leave you to it."

Grace hands me a few pencils and gives me a wink before closing the door behind her. "Good luck!"

Oh, don't worry. I _obviously _have plenty of luck. I mean, just look at my life.

It starts off rather easy, and here I am, bubbling away, and then... fuck. I hardly know any of the answers. I don't even know how long I've been in this room throwing away and future chances of becoming a vet again...

I emerge from the room and find Grace not far away, the exam room door ajar. I hear giggling and see her leaning against the wall, Dan's hands intertwined in hers. She sees me and quickly drops them, practically ripping the test from my hands and glancing over it. "Okay, well it actually shouldn't take too long to get the results back. You see, Dan knows some people-"

"Yeah, great," I answer, because I already know what the result will be. Complete and utter FAILURE. Another blow to my ego.

"Well, I'm gonna take a break, come on a walk with me?" she asks me, already strolling down the hall and towards the exit.

Yeah, just what I want right now. A walk with the devil.

"So, how are you and Jack? Lucy hasn't told me much."

"Oh, I'm kind of... not living there at the moment. I'm staying with Luce."

"Yeah, she did tell me that you guys fought about the whole baby thing," she says as if it's the most nonchalant thing in the world, then emitting a wince once she realizes how touchy the subject is. "Anyway," she waves her hand. "You'll be back soon enough. Jack _is _kind of charming," she laughs.

Now there I'd agree with her.

"So have you two fucked yet? You know, since the accident?"

I stop in the middle of the sidewalk, floored that she'd ask me such a question when she knows I barely know her at the moment...

"No!" I let out rather defensively. "It's not like that," I try.

It's her turn to roll her eyes at me. "Kate, come on. You're telling me you don't remember what it was like with him?"

No, I don't remember a damn thing, I want to tell her. "Not yet."

"Well," she sighs. "I probably know enough for the two of us..."

Is she trying to be this creepy or does it just come naturally?

"Anyway," I change the subject, hoping to be no longer completely mortified, "So maybe you can tell me how we became friends? You know, cause I don't remember..."

"Oh," she grabs my arm excitedly. "This is the _best _story!"

I nod, agreeing, because I've figured out that sometimes it's just easier not to question crazy people. Like Lucy. And Grace. I need to find some new friends. Maybe there's some club for amnesiacs out there?

"You were really mad at me for some reason or another. I could never figure out why, and then I figured out that you weren't perpetually mad at me- you just hated me. Anyway, one night we were at the same bar, you had just been dumped by some guy, and you were drowning your sorrows in mixed drinks. I don't know, maybe it was the liquor talking, but you said we should be friends, and we have been ever since!" Grace finishes with a smile, her long blond hair flowing behind her.

"Oh," I laugh and smile fakely. Honey, it wasn't _maybe _the liquor talking, it _was _the liquor talking. Somehow I get the feeling that even if I didn't have amnesia, that would've been a night I don't remember.

I feel my phone buzz and the heat rise in my throat when I realize it's Jack. I flip it open and answer, not caring that it's rude. I need to get out of here.

"Hey," he says smoothly. "So you showing up tomorrow or what?" he laughs.

"Oh, Dr. Gleason, hello!" I reply, then hear Jack's confusion on the other line.

"Kate, it's me," he deadpans.

I place a hand on my hip, trying to look serious, and squint my eyes. "Oh, so you need me to come in? Yeah, yeah, I'll be there as soon as I can."

Jack sighs into the other end of the phone. "Kate, what the hell are you up to?"

"I'm just with my friend Grace," I start, still pretending to be patient Kate, "but I'll be right there."

I hear him crack up in the background when he realizes what I'm doing, then he throws out a "See ya," and hangs up the phone.

"I hope nothing's wrong," Grace says, obviously concerned with my health, and it's enough to almost make me feel bad. She _has _been incredibly nice, and hasn't mentioned all of her phone calls that I've ignored.

Five minutes later I'm out the door, rushing for a little while until I'm sure I'm out of Grace's sights. My phone buzzes again, and of course it's Jack. I let out an uncontrollable grin, but wonder what exactly he's done to deserve it.

"This is Dr. Gleason," he laughs. "God Kate, do you really hate her that much?"

"She was getting really annoying," I try. "I just took a practice State Board, Jack, and I'm pretty sure I remembered like... 33 percent of it."

He laughs genuinely, and I'm pleased that I can have the same effect on him. "You'll get it back, I guess we just have to be patient, huh?"

We. "Yeah," I agree, because even though we've been apart for awhile, I feel like I'm in an actual relationship. "Patience doesn't really agree with me, but hopefully it does for you," I laugh.

Oh, hell. I knew this would happen. I want to go back home with him _so _much. I want to be with him _so _much.

"I want to come home, Jack," I say suddenly, not sure that I meant to, or that I'm ready for it, or what this will mean for us.

"Oh," he replies, surprise in his voice, sending it into a higher range. "Anytime, Kate, you know that."

"I'm ready." More likely than not I'm saying this to convince myself. "How about tomorrow night? After the whole Central Park thing?"

"Yeah," he says happily, "I can't wait."

I reach Lucy's apartment, waiting in the lobby until I finish the conversation. "But you have to be crazy, Jack, I'm gonna be wandering around that park for hours, trying to find my favorite spot, which I don't even know-"

"Kate," he laughs, but he's not making fun of me. Instead, it's like he has all the confidence in the world in me. I like it. "Trust me, okay? You'll find it."


	17. Miss Bee Explains It All

Thanks for your reviews, and I hope you enjoy this chapter enough to let me know what you think! Next chapter is a continuation of Central Park, so don't worry, you're not being left in the dark for too long. :)

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Miss Bee Explains It All

I must look like a lost tourist, or maybe even the amnesiac that I am, since I've been wandering around Central Park for twenty minutes. A man I've passed three times stops me.

"Can I help you find something?" He seems friendly enough.

"Well, unless you happen to know where someone's 'favorite spot' would be, then no," I reply as nicely as possible. "I'm looking for my husband..."

Now _that _sounds weird. My husband.

"Well, you could always try the Lake," the man shrugs, waving nicely behind him after I've thanked him.

Yeah, I like lakes, right? Right? Well, for the moment I'm going to _love _lakes. Luckily I've been living in New York City for longer than four years, so I haven't somehow forgotten where a twenty acre body of water is.

It's a bit of a walk from where I am, so I call Jack for the third time tonight, and he laughs as he picks up.

"This isn't funny, Jack."

"Actually, it is. Think of it as a memory exercise," he says lightly.

"Right, because me not remembering anything is an exercise..." I know he just doesn't want to ruin whatever surprise he has up his sleeve, but I wouldn't put it past myself to give up and go home at some point.

"Just... what did you like in Central Park before the accident? You've been here hundreds of times, Kate, didn't you have that _one _spot you came to to get away from it all?"

'Are you by the Lake? Please tell me if I'm getting warmer..."

"You know the rules, Kate. No telling."

"Do you know how freaking hard this is Jack? How annoying it is? I know I used to love the Lake, but it's a pretty damn big lake, and I'll probably get lost, or knowing my luck, I'll fall in-"

"Shut up, Kate," he tells me sarcastically.

Oh, well that's a new one. Maybe it's weird but I kinda liked him telling me to shut up.

Jack hangs up as soon as I stop talking, and I feel like I've gotten nowhere. I walk for five minutes, kind of slowly, wondering what exactly Jack has planned, and why this place is so special.

A weird lady with a purple turban is eying me. Oh no. Her robust body is fighting the tight fabric it's contained it, a large gold and green pattern. "Want your fortune, dear?" she asks me, her eyes freakishly large, a wide gap displaying itself between her front teeth as she smiles at me. "Only five dollars."

What the hell. I've got nothing to lose, and even if it's completely bogus I can have fun dreaming up my fake life. My current 'life' already feels fake enough, so it shouldn't be any problem. I sit down and offer a shy smile, even though she kind of smells like curry and liquor. I slide the fiver across the table and she takes my left hand in her palm.

"I'm Bee," she tells me, looking into my eyes deeply.

"Kate," I offer meekly, but I can't help but think she's supposed to know that already.

Suddenly Bee's eyes are closed and lips pursed, as if she's thinking hard. Probably making something up, using her imagination, about to tell me what she tells everyone else... Her hands are large and her nails are also freakishly long, so long that they begin to curl under at the tips, and she squeezes my palm flat- suddenly, hard.

"Oh, you've run into some troubles, haven't you baby?"

Right. Who hasn't?

"Oh... but these are deep troubles. You've been questioning yourself a lot, yes?"

I nod. She's getting closer, but still quite vague. She reminds me of Miss Cleo from those psychic commercials, and that's probably not a good thing.

"There's a man, yes?"

Jesus Christ. Of course there's a man. There's _always _a man when you get your fortune told... What if I was a lesbian? Would she _know_?

"You've split up?"

"Kind of," I admit.

"But you still love him," Bee tells me.

Hell, I don't know if I love him. I'm pretty sure that I _used _to love him, but I've questioned many, many times whether it's possible to fall _out _of love.

"I'm not sure-"

"You love him, baby," she says with a smile. "Miss Bee knows, and soon you will too."

Well, okay. If Miss Bee says so.

"Your relationship is complicated. It's been tested by a situation that was out of your control."

Yes! That's it! I was in a coma! I couldn't exactly control that, could I?

"Yeah," I urge.

"He won't give up, this man."

I rolls my eyes. "Believe me, I know," I mutter sarcastically.

"The two of you are married, yes?"

I nod. "Wow, how did you know that?" This chick is actually pretty good- maybe there's more to this freak than I thought.

"That's a nice looking rock on your finger, baby," she laughs heartily. Oh yeah.

It should probably bother me that this smelly stranger is calling me baby, but it doesn't. It's actually kind of endearing, and I'm hoping that with the five dollars I've given her she can manage to take a shower, but deep down I know she'll put it in her booze fund.

"This isn't what worries you though, baby. You have far bigger things to get through." Bee's face gets tight, scrunching up in concentration. "Oh, you're really in a pickle, aren't you baby?"

When I look up to her, I swear she really knows what's been going on with me, like she's been there, like we're old friends and she's sympathizing with me. "Things will get better."

"When?" I ask eagerly. Miss Bee stares straight back at me.

"We're out of time, sorry," she says somewhat apologetically, staring down at my purse. I have to know when. Even if she's full of shit, I need something to look forward, some kind of concrete day when I'll wake up and remember everything. And really, you can't put a price on that...

Digging through my bag, I pull out another five and shove it her way. This better be good, lady.

"You can't remember much, can you baby?"

Oh, that's good. Miss Bee must be encouraged by the wide surprise of my eyes.

"You have this look about you, like you're lost," she explains. "You had some kind of... experience, yes?"

If 'experience' translates to 'crashing your car into a bridge and getting selective amnesia', then yes.

"You're trying too hard, baby. Be patient." She lets go of my hand and glances down at her watch.

Yeah, I've tried the whole being patient thing. It doesn't work. It's like a long, torturous game of hurry up and wait.

"You've gotta be going, don't cha? Don't want to keep that boy of yours waiting..."

Miss Bee winks at me and I practically let my jaw drop. I've never bought into this whole psychic thing... but she knew an awful lot about my life- the accident, Jack...

"Wherever you're going baby," she pauses, smiling wide at me after I stand up, "you're in for a real treat."

I walk away, not really sure that she's told me much, pretty sure that all psychics are a scam, but what if...?

And finally, great, here's the giant fucking lake. Now what am I supposed to do? Will Jack even be here? I stroll down the shore, contemplating giving this whole thing up and just going back to our apartment to wait for him there. If this is supposed to be a test of faith, will I pass?

Finally I lay back on a patch of grass, for the first time admiring the beauty of the lake, and the beauty of the park, tucked into the busy city. I guess that's why I've always loved it here so much. And my mind wanders to moving back in with Jack, and how hastily I made the decision, almost without thought.

Is that a good thing? Do I want to be thinking or _not _thinking? Maybe I shouldn't even be thinking _this. _This is what happens when I'm alone. I start to annoy myself.

"Took you long enough," a deep voice booms behind me, causing me to jump a little and lift my elbows from the grass. "Told you you'd find it," Jack smiles at me, wide and genuine.

"So this is my favorite spot, huh?"

He shrugs and sits down beside me on the dense layer of grass. "Close. It's actually over there," he says, pointing towards a statue.

Oh, _that _statue. It brings back... memories?

"_Jack, come on!" I yell, him trailing behind me, running towards the statue of Alice in Wonderland that my mom always told me about and I'd visited whenever I came to Central Park. I stop in front of the daunting artwork and Jack catches up. I'd dated him for two months and hadn't brought him here yet..._

"_It's kind of creepy."_

_I slap him lightly on the chest and he stands behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin over one shoulder. "Okay, it's... beautiful- there, happy now?" he laughs and his breath hits my ear, a warmth running through it as we stand in the snow. _

"_Haven't you ever seen it before? Alice in Wonderland? Come on, Jack, even _you've_ probably seen that movie, or read the book..."_

"_She's staring at me," he laughs again, nuzzling his head into my neck when I chide him. "Her beady little bronze eyes..."_

_I hit him again jokingly. "My mom always used to read me the book. When I was little."_

_He stops laughing. He must know that whatever I decide to tell him about my past, he'd better listen. I didn't bring up my childhood all that often. Divorce, all that..._

"_She told me that Alice escaped into her wonderland when she wanted to get away from it all, or she just needed to imagine that things were different..."_

_I'd never really thought about why my mother always told me that story. She wanted me to escape from our home when I had no place else to go, when I could no longer drown out the yelling, the fighting... the essence of my parents._

"_Yeah?" he asks, still over my shoulder. "So what are you imagining? Right now, right at this moment."_

_I grin and turn around in his arms. "Umm... I'm imagining that that statue is a real person, and that fairy tales can come true. I'm imagining that I'm really cold but I've got this really nice boyfriend here trying to keep me warm... I'm imagining that we're gonna go back to my place and drink hot chocolate and take a nap together, I'm imagining that you'll kiss me right here in the middle of Central Park just because you feel like it."_

"_Oh really?" he smiles against me and I can see his breath in the chilled air. He presses his lips against mine softly and pulls away after I cup his chin in my hands. "I just felt like it," he explains, laughing along with me, kissing me again then pushing me down into the snow. It's cold underneath me but Jack soon joins, beside me in his own bed of fluff. I tug his hood out of his jacket and put it behind his head._

"_So what else could that scattered brain of yours possibly be imagining?" He grins at me, his chocolate eyes burning into mine, like they're claiming me or taking over... I don't know. My heart thumps in my chest, so loud that I'm sure he can hear it._

_Then I realize. That's what love is. Jack makes my heart thump, flutter, jump- with the sound of his voice or when I feel his presence in a room, even when he's angry, or when he kisses me, when his eyes turn darker and I know what he wants..._

"_I don't know," I start, then boldly add, "I'm imagining us."_

"_Me too," he says quietly, lacing his fingers through mine. _

"_And what's the verdict?" I turn my head and watch him staring into the cloudy sky, then his face breaking into a shy grin._

"_It's good. Great, actually."_

"_And when is this greatness happening?" I try to laugh and cover the intensity of my question._

"_I don't know, maybe it's 6 months from now, five years from now, ten years?"_

"_Maybe."_

_We lay in silence as I rub my glove covered thumb over his hand. I don't really know what just happened, how our relationship suddenly went from a few months of fun to planning ahead..._

I snap out of it to find Jack looking at me strangely. He was right. This is where we fell in love, even if we didn't say the words, on one winter afternoon, laying in the snow and looking at a statue that he thought was creepy and I thought was beautiful. I guess that's how life works sometimes.

But the real question is this: can say I've fallen in love with the same man twice?


	18. Restless

Restless

It's completely possible, I've decided- falling in love with the same person twice.

"You okay?" Jack asks me, probably because my eyes have glazed over and I've been incapable of blinking for the past few minutes.

I get up quickly and he follows, confused.

"What the hell, Kate? What did I do wrong?"

I wave him off with my hand and jog over to the statue. Now that I stare at Alice, I start to agree with Jack. She is kind of creepy.

He stops beside me and smiles. "So, for some reason unknown to me this is your favorite place in the city..."

"Yeah," I reply, remembering several other visits to the statue; with my mom after Jack and I had gotten engaged, with Grace, with Lucy...

Jack shrugs and puts his hands in his jeans pockets, tilting his head to the side. "I mean I've tried so hard to get what you get out of it," he says, squinting as if he can morph the structure, "but I've always teased you that Alice here is a little bit creepy."

I sit down on the sun-warmed grass, a bit overwhelmed by everything my brain just processed. "I remember coming here with you," I say excitedly, making hand motions and almost hitting Jack a few times. "It was winter and we laid in the snow, you told me the statue was creepy, you told me to imagine whatever I wanted... and I ended up realizing that I was in love with you..." I finish, embarrassed by my admission.

I smile over at him and his eyes soften, previous amusement gone. "That was a good day, huh?" he remembers, wrapping his arm around my waist. I fall onto his shoulder with ease, comfort. "But just so you know, I knew I loved you way before then," he teases.

"So why didn't you say those three big words, Dr. Shephard?" I laugh, trying my hardest to avoid awkward silences.

Jack ducks his head down at my name calling. "Sorry, I know you hate that," I say, but he doesn't need to know I don't really mean it. Ha. "Fess up."

"I don't know," he starts, meeting my eyes. "I guess I was afraid you didn't feel the same way, that I'd scare you away or something?"

"Smart man," I laugh. "You must've known my track record of running away from relationships the minute they turned serious."

"A little," he admits. "But you didn't tell me, Lucy did," he laughs loudly. "You know, she's not as bad as she seems sometimes. She helped you through a lot, especially after you found out-"

"Yeah. We talked about that," I tell him, cutting off what I consider to be an awkward subject, touchy still. I don't want to mad with him again before I've even forgiven myself completely. I'm not sure if that time will ever come, when I don't blame myself for not being able to have children when I could just choose to accept it instead.

"I'm sorry about how I treated you, you know, since the accident. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like that, and I shouldn't have blamed you for everything when it was really my fault-"

Jack moves his hand from around my waist to the side of my head, palming my hair, so close to me, looking down into my eyes. "I know. It's okay." He smiles shyly and I'm amazed that he's still stuck by me through all this. I probably would've ran from my crazy self a long time ago, but I've already figured out that Jack is a much more patient person than I am.

"I'm sick of blaming everything on the accident, Jack. It freaks me out, but I'm trying to make my own life again, even if it doesn't turn out to be exactly the same..."

"Well," he sighs, "I'm glad you're trying."

For a minute I let the seriousness of this all seep back in. I guess we have to talk real life sometimes.

"Why doesn't this freak you out more, Jack? Why aren't you as scared as I am that I'll never turn back into your wife?"

He pulls his head back, almost as if he's offended. "Because you're already turning back into her, getting back on your feet, even if you don't know it. I mean, think about the things we talk about now- we're past the point of 20 questions, we have some kind of relationship... even if I'm not quite sure what it is sometimes," he laughs, rubbing his forehead.

Well, at least we're both aware of our awkward non-relationship.

"So if we went to a party, how would you introduce me- 'This is Kate,' or 'This is my wife, Kate,?'"

He rolls his eyes. "I'd say, 'This is my wife Kate, sorry if you've met before, but she got into this horrible accident and has a bit of a problem remembering people-"

"Shut up," I smack him, but secretly I appreciate his ability to make me laugh when I get too intense.

"I remembered coming here with my mom after we got engaged, and coming with Lucy after her divorce from Ted, and Jesus, even with Grace."

"Really, you came here with Jesus?" he jests, ducking away from me when I make a move to hit him again. I should probably stop that.

"Shut up."

But then his eyes light up. "All joking aside, though, that's great," he says and pulls me into a hug. "It's a really good sign that you're starting to remember things more frequently, you know."

Thank God, because I need a really good sign right about now.

"So when was the first time you told me you loved me?" I kid, wanting to remember this so bad, but for now happy that I at least remembered being with him and not his _mother_ for once.

"Uhh, that would've been right after you told me for the first time," he smirks, lacing his fingers through mine.

"You made me say it first?"

I can't remember ever saying those three daunting words to any guy I've been with, but I guess it's possible that he wasn't the first.

He holds his hands up, palms facing me in defense. "Hey, you're a tough sell. And I didn't _make _you say anything."

I sigh. "I wish I could remember."

"I know." He stands up and offers a hand, pulling me up from the soft ground. "You will. What do you say we get you moved back in?" He moves his eyebrows up and down and I giggle.

I _giggle_. Really? I _don't _giggle, at least I didn't use to. Maybe that's part of falling in love too? Love is great and everything, but I hope when I fell for Jack I didn't become one of those giggly, clingy, round- eyed girls I always wanted to slap.

"Thanks for making me come here." I'll be the first to admit being a little hesitant, but mostly because I doubted myself so much. I didn't think I'd have a chance in hell in finding my favorite spot, but here I am, and here Jack is, and look how it worked out! Maybe I should trust myself a little more often...?

"Thanks for agreeing to live with me again," he retorts jokingly.

I grab his hand as we stroll to the edge of the park to catch a cab back to Lucy's. "You know, I got my fortune told before I came here."

"Miss Bee?" he asks, shaking his head in amusement when he realizes he's right.

"How did you-"

"Miss Bee is practically our tradition, Kate. She's almost always sitting there at that table..."

Well no wonder she knew so much about me. Damn.

"Anyway," I roll my eyes. "She told me that things would be getting better soon and that I'm just trying too hard to make something happen."

"Sounds more like a shrink."

Jack waves his hand toward the road and we get into the cab.

"What else did she tell you? That you'd meet some mysterious man, fall in love...?" He's joking, but I can't help but think he's on the right track...

"I told her I wasn't sure if I loved you," I say seriously.

"And?"

"And she told me I was wrong."

"And what do you think about that?" he tries to ask casually, but I know how much he wants me to love him back.

The bench seat in the cab lets me scoot close to him, and I cling to his arm as the crazy driver flings us across the backseat.

"I think she's probably right," I say seriously. "I know I've been really immature about our relationship, but I just didn't want to mess anything up or take anything too fast, and I don't want to embarrass myself-"

"What's to be embarrassed about, Kate? I'm your _husband. _It's not exactly a secret how I feel about you," he points out.

Well, when he says it like that it makes so much sense. It's so rational, which isn't something I can claim to have been since the accident.

"Fine. I'm falling for you, okay? Is that what you wanna hear?"

"Only if it's true." He winks at me and turns his attention toward the window. I wonder for ten minutes, until we pull up to Lucy's building, how he can be so confident in everything.

Lucy looks a little grumpy when we walk in, muttering a quick hello to Jack and asking him politely how he's been.

I pull her aside when Jack takes my things down to the waiting cab. I'm not really sure how to do this. I mean, we didn't have the best time living together, but I should be happy that she even let me in the first place.

"So, thanks for everything Luce, it really means a lot to me-"

"Shut it, Kate. That's what friends are for," she smiles and pulls me into a hug. "Let me know how things go, okay? We'll have to do dinner or something sometime this week." I agree and she hands Eggo over to me.

"I'm actually gonna miss this little thing," she tells me, rubbing his head. "Even if he did piss all over this place..."

Jack comes back up. "Ready?" he asks, and puts a palm on my lower back as he ushers me out the door, thanking Lucy on the way out.

"So sorry the park wasn't as much of a surprise as you probably wanted it to be," Jack says as we lug my things upstairs and into the apartment. "I just wanted you to have a chance to remember something..."

"No," I assure him, putting a palm on his chest. "It was fun. And worth it, obviously. You know, I kinda like, _remembered _something, Jack!" I joke with him.

Eggo tugs on his leash and runs around like a madman when I unclip him. "Looks like he missed the place," Jack offers.

"I missed the place too, ya know," I say dramatically, plopping down onto what I still swear is the most comfortable couch I've ever encountered. I pat the cushion beside me. Jack lays next to me, the size of the couch forcing us together. Not that I mind, really. It's kinda nice to have some human contact again.

"You hear that?"

"No. Hear what?" Jack questions.

"Exactly. I don't hear Lucy screaming at me, or at Eggo, or doing jumping jacks at five in the morning, or blasting her radio in the shower, running the vacuum while I'm trying to sleep..."

"Mmm," he agrees easily, pulling me into him. My head goes to his neck and I decide I love it there, that it smells like him, feels like him, it _is _him. He breaths in against my hair and I smile against him, sliding my hands to the warm skin of his stomach underneath his shirt.

"I missed you," I admit, lifting my head to see his reaction.

He lets out an easy smile, pulling my head towards his. "You know I missed you," he laughs against my mouth and crap, now he's kissing me like it's the most normal thing in the world.

Surely sensing my hesitance, he pulls back. "Sorry?"

Maybe we'll just have make this the most normal thing in the world. Maybe we'll have to make this a habit. I mean we _are _married.

So this time I kiss him, drawing in his bottom lip and scratching my nails through the stubble on the sides of his face, daring to open my mouth after a few minutes, darting my tongue to his. God, I didn't realize how much I missed this, how much I should've _craved _this man.

When he moves his lips to my neck, suckling on the flesh, I don't stop him. It feels too good and at the same time, too right. And when his hands wander south, to my waist and around the front, dipping underneath my shirt, I don't stop him.

Then his hands are all over me, and mine start to do the same, grazing across his chest and then to the hem of his shirt, swiftly pulling it over his head. Jack moves his mouth up to mine again, kissing me deeply, so thoroughly it sends rolls of nervousness through me. Chills?

He tugs my shirt off and seemingly admires the view in front him before reaching behind me and undoing the clasp on my bra. I cup his cheeks in my hands and kiss him softly, letting him know this is okay. This is what I want. A warm mouth attaches itself to my breast and I run my hands through his short hair. Jack lets his fingertips skim across the ticklish skin on my stomach, feeling for the button on my jeans.

I don't stop him then, either.


	19. Catching Up

Catching Up

Sometimes I wonder if life is a chain reaction. If one thing changes, does everything else? I mean, if I had listened to my mother and gone to dental school instead, would I even live in the city anymore? On May 30th, would I have crashed my car on the freeway and forgotten four pretty life-altering years of my life?

Would I be married to Jack? Would we even have _met_?

And then I realize that however fun it is to imagine how different, or perfect my life could have been, it's not the real thing. Because I _didn't _go to dental school, I _did _crash my car on the highway on May 30th, and I _did _meet Jack and end up marrying him. I can't change any of it.

This is my life, even though sometimes I pray that I've dreamed this crazy tale and that I'll be transported back to Lucy's bachelorette party, back to the that time in my life when I drowned my sorrows in all kinds of liquor. Now everything has changed, but I'm beginning to think that I have the wrong idea about change- it doesn't have to be bad, it just happens that lately I've had a bit of a string of terrible luck. Thing is, this isn't the past, and I haven't just been dumped. I'm freaking married! To a gorgeous man, who has his faults but still seems to be good for me and _to_ me considering how he's been treated.

Instead of being thrilled that my husband wants to touch me, to make love to me. I'm terrified of what this will change and what else I'll lose control of.

Jack must sense that something is wrong, or- surprise, I'm questioning what I'm about to do. What we're about to do. He moves his hands from the waist of my panties to the sides of my neck, not speaking but at the same time asking me what's wrong, if he's allowed to do this. If there's some kind of boundary he might be about to cross.

I supposed nothing is wrong, really. What's he's doing feels good, maybe even great if I could get over my nerves. But it's new, so it must mean I have to be scared of it. That's how I've been living my life since the accident.

He looks at me, and really when I think about it, it's one pair of eyes staring at another. They shouldn't give anything away but they do. He knows that I'm scared, doubtful that we can make this work. And I can tell, just by looking into his that he's trying so hard not to compare me to _her. _

The old Kate.

I can tell that he wishes he had her in this moment instead of me.

I wish I was her too, Jack. Can't you see that?

I tear my eyes away from his and close them with relief, leaning my forehead against his, feeling our breath mix together, synchronize.

Maybe I've been too hard on myself through this up and down and every which way relationship I have with Jack. What I'm actually feeling now- not what I think I'm _supposed _to feel, or how I maybe would've felt it I was the old me- shouldn't it matter more?

The me _now _matters. I matter, and this relationship with Jack, however strange it maybe, matters.

So I press my lips just below his ear and suck lightly, feeling his hands regrip around my hips, then lower, until he's lifting me onto my knees and pulling that last remaining garment away.

Oh God, no wonder I married this man. His fingers find all my favorite spots, some I wasn't aware that I had, with such grace, the right pressure, the right speed, like he's played with my body so many times that he couldn't possibly forget.

He has me memorized.

Obviously I have some catching up to do.

So I reach down and feel him through his pants, smiling with satisfaction when his eyes flutter shut. When I tug the zipper down and pull them down his slim hips, he catches my eye and I give him a half smile, showing much more confidence than I actually have. What if I'm suddenly bad at this? Is it really possible to forget how to have sex?

The material of his boxers stretches over him until I pull the fabric down, releasing him, wrapping a hand around him, happy with what I've found...

_This _I remember how to do, until he coaxes me to stop, his hips jerking underneath me. Part of me wants to be cruel, just to see him lose control for once. I've never seen him look so vulnerable.

Suddenly in our state of undress, with Jack's cock looking so goddamn happy to see me, I remember that I'm nervous, or I'm supposed to be nervous, or something like that.

But sometimes, err... quite literally, you just have to grab life by the balls... Sometimes it's better not to think. And then, like he knows that I'm thinking too much, that I'm over analyzing, he picks me up from the couch, forcing me to wrap my legs around his waist. He laughs when I bite down on the smooth skin between his shoulder and neck, and I feel it in his chest.

And it's not the _only_ thing I feel!

Now we're on the bed and I'm half on top of him, looking at him like some awkward teenager who isn't sure what comes next. I know what normally comes next, but what if Jack and I are different? So I kiss him because I want to, because I love the way he's looking at me like there's no one else he'd rather be with.

I _am _her. I'm the old Kate, the forgotten Kate, the new Kate. I just am.

And before I can even think about it, Jack's pulling me on top of him, and suddenly- _holy shit_, we're having sex. Maybe I can't believe it because a month ago I hid in a hospital bathroom because I was so afraid to talk to him, or maybe because I can't figure out why this feels so ... not weird.

What I've been fighting for awhile now is bubbling to the surface; I'm connected to this man in more ways than one and I'm done denying it. I love Jack.

If I didn't, I probably would've shaken Jack off in the neatest, cleanest way possible. I would probably be living with mother and Rob right now. And I certainly wouldn't be doing _this_.

Jack's staring at me so intensely, running his hands down my sides until he flips us over, and the words almost slip out. I decide to take on the 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it' mentality when it comes to this recent admission I've made. Just because I finally accepted it doesn't mean I'm ready to tell Jack, as selfish as it sounds.

We move together in a way that feels so practiced, and I guess in some way it is. It's so right, but still a little awkward. That's us, alright.

Right, but awkward.

Isn't it only natural to wonder what Jack and I were like together before all of this? What if he's thinking how terrible this is? Right now, when he breaths hard onto my neck and takes my earlobe between his teeth, slowing his hips, it sends a current through me. Have we always been this intense?

I'm not complaining.

"You have no idea..." he starts in a whisper he never finishes, but I want to fill in his words with "How much I missed you."

Soon Jack has lost most of the control I thought he had. I roll my hips against his, getting the contact I need. He doesn't seem to mind either, until I hear him mutter an uncharacteristic 'oh fuck' and slump against me, chest to chest. He's squishing me but I decide it's the best kind of squish there is.

There's nothing much left to say, or hell, do, since we've pretty much passed any boundaries we had in the beginning. I kiss his rough cheek that's pressed into the pillows underneath my head and he lifts from it to place an easy kiss against my lips. He rolls off of me and I figure he'll go right to sleep like every other man.

Instead he stares straight up at the ceiling rather blatantly, like he's having as hard of a time accepting what just happened as I am.

"That..." he hesitates, and for a moment a strip of panic runs through me, like maybe he's realized this was all a mistake. "...Wasn't what I expected."

Jack lets out a bark of laughter that sounds more like disbelief than amusement.

"Me either," is all I can think to say, mostly because he's hit it right on. I didn't expect this, but that doesn't mean it was wrong, or bad, or that I'll regret it. What if, instead, it's the best thing we could've done?

Wow, check out the optimism in me.

I start laughing, slowly at first, thinking about how I felt when I woke up in that hospital, confused, then angry at stupid nurse Kelly and my stupid life, how I was so afraid of the man laying beside me, how I wanted nothing more than to be the Kate I used to be. Jack has joined in, my laughter apparently contagious.

Somehow it makes sense that after everything we've been through, all the things that once seemed unsurmountable, have turned into a fit of laughter. A month ago I couldn't have been paid to say this, but now I'm not even sure that I would trade in my new memories for the old- the life that I've made for myself now might be a hell of a lot different, but does that have to mean it's worse?

Maybe I'm in an unnaturally happy mood- I've heard that sex can do that to you... but it's starting to seem like I've somehow landed myself in a good situation with a genuine, loving man. It's funny, because the last boyfriend I remember being with I tried so hard to make us work, so hard that it did the opposite. And with Jack, I did about everything possible to ruin us, to drive him away, yet here we are. Functional. Working. Having sex.

I know that even days from now I won't be able to remember every little detail of being with Jack, but right now it's consuming my mind and it's hard to imagine forgetting anything like this.

We're dozing off, or I think both of us are dozing off anyway, when suddenly I'm pulled from the bed by my hand, Jack grinning at me like a little boy. I've only had the privilege of seeing him like this a few times. I ignore the vibration of my cell phone on the bedside table. Whoever it is can wait.

"Shower?"

He doesn't give me the time to answer, instead tugging me into the bathroom and turning on the water, waiting until it steams. I hold my hands out to him, more than anything to show him I'm okay with everything that just happened.

I think.

We step inside and I watch as he pours shampoo into his hands, lathering it into my hair with his large palms, pushing me slowly back into the stream of water, letting it rinse out slowly. The steady pulse of the shower is replaced by his lips on my neck, hot and slow, and in my head I can imagine that we've done this before. The shower thing, I mean.

I start to think it will take awhile for us to get clean when I turn around in his arms, my hands quickly grasping around the treasure I've just found...

"You're gonna kill me, you know that?" he mumbles into my ear, and I know that there won't be any way to talk myself out of this one. If _somehow _I regret this tomorrow, for _some _unknown reason, I couldn't say that I made a mistake. Because I would have to say I made some _mistakes. _As in plural. As in I didn't learn from it the first time around. But that's not going to happen. It can't.

For once I wish that Jack could read my mind and know that _this _Kate loves him, that he could know the words I want so badly to say to him, the words that he _deserves _so much. If only Jack could channel Miss Bee.


	20. Mirror, Mirror

I know, I know. It's been about forever and you guys have been nothing but great! Life is just a bit hectic right now. If you leave a review, of course I wouldn't complain. :)

* * *

Mirror, Mirror

It's strange to wake up one morning and feel married. Like right now. I'm sure I felt the same way the _first _time, the morning after our wedding, but I don't really remember that. Unfortunately.

I hear Jack's alarm beep annoyingly beside him, and the numbers read 5:45. What have I done to deserve waking up at this hellish hour? He sighs and tugs his arm out from underneath my back, which I hadn't even realized I was sleeping on.

Oh God. He's looking at me. I can feel his eyes on me, so mine remain closed. I don't know what the hell to do. Not after what happened last night.

Two times.

Oh, alright. Three.

Not that I didn't enjoy it, because I did, and I'm _positive _that Jack knows that. It's just hard to know what to think now. Or how to act. But this- closing my eyes and pretending to be asleep, probably isn't it.

Fifteen minutes later he walks out from the bathroom, smelling of aftershave. The smell gets closer until I feel him peck me on the lips, then, closing the bedroom door behind him, he goes into the kitchen.

My phone blasts loudly on the nightstand, jolting me from my semi-relaxed state. I panic, immediately thinking of everything that could be wrong right now, and the few people who would call at this hour. I pick up the ringing contraption in a hurry, seeing on the caller ID screen that it's Grace.

"Hello?" I croak out as best I can. "What's wrong?"

"You're a fucking genius!"

No one deserves this- not even me. I may be hard on myself, but only dogs should be able to register the shrieking, ear-piercing noise coming from this woman.

"What?" I ask when Grace has calmed down a little. "What's going on?"

She sighs into the phone, like I'm supposed to read her mind. "Well, you know, Dan pulled some strings and got the results back on your practice boards like, really fast, and I just opened them because I'm at the clinic-"

"Grace," I interrupt her ramble. "Why the hell are you at the clinic at..." I glance over to the alarm clock, "5:48 in the fucking morning?"

"Oh," she says happily. "Well yesterday I kind of cut out a little early with Dan, if you know what I mean, so I never checked the mail, and I had this really strange dream this morning about being stuck in a giant bowl of melted marshmallows, which is a lot scarier than it sounds, and I couldn't go back to sleep, so here I am. And I just opened the mail, and like I said before, you're a genius!"

"Breathe," I remind her. And I thought I was a little frantic these days.

"Your scores. They came back. You did great... better than me," she admits, the latter sounding like she held back a bit of resentment.

_Grace_ was always the genius when we were in school, not me. I guess having no friends at the time made that easy for her.

Instead of being happy that I may have my career ahead of me after all, I can only think of Grace snooping through my mail.

"I know I shouldn't have opened it," she blurts out quickly, as if she can read my mind. I hope to God that's not true, because she definitely doesn't want to know what I'm thinking right now.

"But isn't that great?" she urges. "Now really all you have to do is take the boards for real again and renew your license. Shouldn't be too bad. And I'll ease you back into things."

"Thanks," I mumble. I thought for sure that I made a fool of myself on that exam. I remembered about half of it, and I guess I was lucky enough to guess the rest?

Grace huffs into the phone again, voicing her displeasure. "Jeez, and I thought you'd be _happy _about this. What gives?"

This is weird for me. I went from imagining what it would be like to be a vet to the prospect of actually being one in a few weeks.

"It's just a lot to think about, that's all. But thank you, really, for trying to help me so much," I tell her. "It means a lot," I add.

"Well, yeah, that's what friends are for right?" She laughs suddenly. "And I could use a vacation, I'm not gonna lie."

Grace, the former spawn of Satan, has actually managed to make me laugh. Wow.

"I'll make everyone's pets die!" I yell in a random change of subject, because it's my biggest fear and a very possible reality.

"That's not true. Eggo is still alive!"

When did she become so funny? I look over at Eggo, who is digging his black snout between the couch cushions, investigating, and I realize she may be right. I've managed him, even when I'm a little, well, insane.

"Anyway, this isn't the time to talk about this, Kate. Let's get together tomorrow night? Watch the fireworks? And bring Jack."

I agree, and we plan to meet in the park for an impromptu picnic.

"Will there be alcohol?"

"There's no better way to celebrate the birth of our country," she laughs.

"I have some stuff to tell you, too," I admit.

She gasps. "You and Jack?" she wonders hopefully.

"This isn't the time to talk about it," I taunt her.

"You guys totally did-!"

I hang up the phone, absurdly gleeful that I'll keep her wondering another night. But it doesn't last long, because now I realize that it's 6am and I'm dreadfully, completely, awake. It's just not natural.

Jack walks back in the room to stand in front of the mirror, looping his tie around his neck. He looks in the mirror at me, to where I'm sitting on the bed behind him. "So what was that all about?" A small smile plays on his face.

I guess this isn't supposed to be awkward. Well sure, not for him! He's had sex with me before! This is new to me! It's hardly fair.

"Uhh," I stutter. "That was Grace. Calling about the practice State Boards I took. Guess I did pretty well for some reason or another."

Jack turns around. "That's great! Things are looking up, aren't they?"

I know what he means. Us. My job. Having sex. All of that.

"Yeah, I guess now I just have to take the real thing."

He smiles again, struggling with making the knot. "I'll help you study, don't worry," he reassures me.

He has no idea how cute he looks, fiddling with the dark fabric, so I walk over to help him, bringing my hands to his neck, looping the tie through and straightening his collar. I go to pull away but Jack pulls me back by the hips.

"Morning," he smirks, staring me in the eyes, like he's daring me to look away. He knows that this is getting to me. The bastard is testing me.

So I inch my face towards his, even though I feel uncomfortable and a bit under pressure to knock his socks off. I stand there, my palms rested on his arms, my fingers tracing over the smooth light blue fabric of his dress shirt, my face not more than an inch from his. His breath lands on my lips and I keep my eyes open. So does he, fixated on each other, a small grin on his face.

"Morning," I say brightly, and back away, sauntering to the bathroom. I can be a tease too. He doesn't have to know that I'm completely insecure about almost everything right now or that I'm still afraid of messing us up, even though I know we're great together, even though last night proved it even more. I want to move forward, and God knows he does too, but it's easier said than done.

I'm brushing my teeth when he walks in the bathroom behind me, hands stuffed into the pockets of his dress pants. After I spit out the toothpaste he's still staring at me in the mirror, and I watch as he pulls the scrunchy out of my hair gently, letting my hair fall past my shoulders. He doesn't touch me, just stands so close I feel like my skin is jumping to touch him.

He's managing to make such an unsexy thing like brushing my teeth, sexy. We lock eyes in the mirror, until he brushes his hand just against my neck and down to my hip, so lightly that I wonder how it can feel like fire.

"See ya tonight then?" he says softly against my ear. "Dinner with your mom and Rob, right?"

I can only nod.

When I hear the front door click shut I let myself breathe.

Just as I've shaken off his touch, but not erased it from my memory, I remember that I'm supposed to make dinner for tonight.

Me. Cook. The two just don't fit together.

I figure that I can pull the old amnesia card if need be. I'm starting to realize that it can come in handy sometimes.

And then I have another boring day.

Watch _The Price Is Right_. Check. But it just isn't the same without Bob Barker.

Walk Eggo. Check.

Pluck eyebrows. Check.

Go to supermarket. Check.

Get hit on by a bum. Check.

Normal day, all in all.

I've thrown together some sort of casserole that doesn't look too terrible by the time Jack is due home. Maybe I'll just win over my own mother with my charming personality.

There's the unmistakable sound of the door swinging open, followed by Eggo's barking and Jack's greeting for the puppy. I'm pulling a casual dress over my head when he walks in the bedroom.

"It smells pretty normal out there, I'm assuming everything went okay?" he jokes.

I roll my eyes. He probably shouldn't get his hopes up. "Haven't tasted it yet."

"Well in any case I'll cross my fingers." I reach for the back of my dress, where a small zipper is sewn in. "Need some help with that?"

I nod. He slides the zipper up easily, but his hands linger on my exposed back.

"So about last night," he dares to say, trailing his hands lower to my waist.

The fire is back, his presence tingling all over my backside.

"Yeah?" I say as evenly as possible, even though I'm having one of those chest tightening, losing your breath, can't look anyone in the eye kind of moments.

"So?"

Does he expect me to know what to say?

"So it happened," I tell him nonchalantly. Maybe we don't have to make a big deal about this.

His hands shift higher, to the curve of my breasts, out to my arms, to the nape of my neck. "Actually, it happened three times," he says sarcastically.

If he could just take his hands off of me maybe I could think!

"Okay, so it happened three times. What's your point?"

"My point is," he says in a low voice, against my neck, "that it happened three times."

I close my eyes to the sensation. "So you're wanting... a fourth time?" I hesitate.

"You know what I want, Kate."

Okay, so I know what he wants. And what I want. But why does he have to make me admit it?

"Look at me," he breathes, and right now, in this spell he has me under, he could say about anything and I would do it.

I turn, closing the distance between us and he nuzzles his scruffy face into my shoulder, kissing the skin there. When he lifts his head and glances down at me, I know he's got me.

"You..." he trails off, "need to admit what you want. That's all."

I don't know if I kiss him or he kisses me, but either way we're kissing, and he's undoing the work he's just done on my dress and my fingers are working quickly at the buttons on his shirt, then his belt buckle. It's fast, and raw somehow, and Jack almost seems like a stranger. _I _feel like a stranger.

His lips trail on my neck and chest, dragging his mouth along, nipping and sucking, and God, he's good at that. We're right in the middle of it, my legs wrapped around his waist, and of course, the doorbell rings.

We stop, both wide-eyed before I jump off him.

"What? No, Kate, you can't leave me like this," he pleads, glancing down. "You have _no _idea..."

"My _mother _is outside! Oh fuck," I curse, pulling my dress back on and smoothing my hair. "Just... take care of that," I point to his obvious arousal. "And then come out and meet us."

I know my cheeks must be rosy, my lips swollen, my hair mussed, but I answer the door anyway. Rob smiles obliviously at me, but my mother eyes me, taking in my appearance for a long second.

"Where's Jack?" Rob asks me after we've made the usual greetings.

My face freezes hesitantly, and I know I pause for an instance too long. A knowing smirk passes across my mother's face.

"Oh, he'll... He'll be out soon. He's just finishing up something."

My mother snorts. "I'll bet he is."


	21. Just Words

Jack is still a little miffed from last night's interruption, refusing to touch me every time I come near him. If you ask me, he's being a whiny baby, but then again, I've never had a penis.

"You don't understand," he tells me again the next morning, not looking up from the TV. He's flipping through the channels, driving me crazy, and I'm trying to resist the temptation to grab the remote from him and smack him over the head with it. "It's like torture."

"I understand plenty," I lie, nibbling at my toast and gulping down coffee, not quite sure how he convinced me to get out of bed this early on a Saturday. "Besides, dinner went fine. You'll live."

He rolls his eyes and I throw a pillow at him. "Your mother _knew_! I felt like she was staring at my pants the entire time."

"Gross, Jack, don't ever include my mother in those types of situations. She didn't know," I lie again, because she totally _did_! It was awkward, but I've learned pretty well to get over that.

He raises his eyebrows and silences our argument, settling on an old cartoon, and I watch his face break into an amused smile as the characters chase each other around the screen, waiting for the other to meet their demise.

I think about the picnic we're meeting Grace for tonight. It shouldn't feel weird to be around her still, but I can't shake the nagging feeling that I'm missing some big part of the story. I mean, I may have lost part of my memory, but I know myself. And I don't just let people into my life like that. Especially Grace.

"So Grace is really... okay now? You're sure that I don't really hate her but pretend to be her friend?"

Jack shakes his head absently, still staring at the screen. "Nope. That's Jessica. You and Grace are fun to watch together."

"And you like her better than Lucy?"

Okay, so maybe this isn't the best way to gage Grace's presence in my life, since Lucy doesn't seem to make the best impression on everyone. Maybe if she didn't judge them out loud... to their face...

"Yes," he says firmly, laughing at my puzzled look. "Sorry I can't help more, but you two were already close friends by the time I met you.

"You're sure you don't mind going tonight? We're not going to drive you crazy?"

"Oh, you'll drive me crazy, but I'm used to that," he jokes, lacing his fingers through mine in the middle of the couch.

I ignore his comment. "We're supposed to bring a side dish tonight. Any ideas?"

"Buy something at the grocery store?" he laughs when I smack him.

We end up doing just that, after many comments by Jack amounting to "a guy's gotta eat."

"Am I really _that _terrible?" I ask him as we walk to the deli section of Swegman's.

He wraps his arm around my shoulders loosely, giving up his no contact game. "I like this dress."

"Thanks, I got it with Lucy the other- wait, don't change the subject here."

"Ahh, but I can't be mean to you, you know that," he grins impishly. He must know how charming he is. "That casserole last night... it wasn't that bad!"

I groan. "It was bad."

Jack pays for the potato salad, while I find a cab. It isn't long until we're at the small park Grace wanted us to meet at, which is apparently practically in her backyard according to Jack. Grace greets me with her usual enthusiasm, pulling me into a hug and then does the same to Jack. When we talked on phone yesterday, Grace hadn't told me that she invited everyone else she ever met, too.

The grass in the park is covered in blankets, mostly with people around our age, a few kids thrown in for good measure. If Grace and I are as close as we're made out to be, then I realize I'll probably know a lot of the people here.

Or I _knew _them, anyway.

I've only thought about this kind of situation since my accident. I haven't actually had to face all of these people until now. I don't think it's crazy to wonder if they're all thinking 'poor Kate'. The last thing I want by now is sympathy. Jack must sense my uneasiness.

"I thought it would be good for you to see everyone again," Grace smiles, leading us to one of the tables stacked with food. "Since you've kind of had some time to gather yourself since the whole coma thing and all."

She leaves us there, Jack's hand resting on my back, and I'm taking in a deep breath.

"Just relax. Everyone knows what you've been through," Jack reassures me.

First we're bombarded with Chris and Beth, who inform me that they're our favorite married couple. They seem okay and don't seem to mind the fact that I don't remember them, telling me stories of how we met at a restaurant while Jack and I were still engaged. I remember vaguely seeing them in a picture somewhere along the way. I rely on Jack to tell me the real scoop once they've moved along.

"They're a little obsessive," he starts, smiling. "But nice enough. We have dinner with them a few times a year."

"Well, now there are two less people to not remember, I guess."

Lucy shows up a few minutes later, holding onto the hand of a man I've never seen before. He's a little tan for my taste, but otherwise not too bad.

"This is Ryan," she beams, and Jack and I both introduce ourselves politely. "We met on the subway," she says, but all I can picture is Lucy actually _taking _the subway. They practically skip off to lay down their own blanket, and I sigh at the fact that I've lost another person to cling to.

"Kate! Oh my God I'm so sorry I haven't been in touch but I didn't know if you'd remember me and I thought it might be awkward- Jack, so good to see you too!"

I widen my eyes, not quite sure who this lady is, but she looks _so _familiar.

"Judy," I say slowly, and Jack's hand tightens around my waist. He's probably as shocked as I am that I remember someone.

"Oh, you do remember! Honey, that makes me so happy!"

Well, she _is_ memorable. Judy is the rep for our supply company at the clinic, but it doesn't mean I want to remember her. I seem to only remember people who have made a bad impression. Like Judy, and Jack's mom.

"I was so happy when I received Grace's invite. Makes me feel so special," she rambles on, and I'm not sure how long I've zoned out until Jack is nudging me in the ribs.

"Ow. What the hell?"

"When are you returning to work?"

"Oh. Soon I guess. I just have to take the boards again and then I should be able to get back into things."

I thought this was supposed to be about relaxing and enjoying the holiday with my friends and my husband. But it's turning into some twenty questions kind of thing.

I tell Judy that I'll see her soon, as unfortunate as that might be, and tug Jack by the hand so we can be alone.

"How many more times is this going to happen?" I whisper.

"Lots," Jack cringes. "You're doing fine."

"Why can't I remember Chris or Beth, or those two over there who keep waving at me? Why do I have to remember people like Judy?"

"Couldn't tell ya," Jack says. He pulls the blanket we brought from the bag on my shoulder, leading me over to an empty patch of grass away from everyone.

I settle down onto it, Jack beside, watching in silence as the sun falls below the horizon slowly. It's nice to be able to sit and actually feel relaxed around Jack, who I was absurdly afraid of just months ago. He notices me watching him and meets my eyes with a smile.

The smile clicks in my brain, and all of a sudden I can remember being here with him before, almost in the same spot...

"We come here every year, don't we?" I lean back into his chest, resting my arms on his knees.

"Umm... no, we've never been here for the fourth before."

"But I remember," I laugh, thinking he must be teasing me. "We were sitting right here basically, and we were watching fireworks, and then you kissed me..."

"Nothing," he shakes his head.

And, oh crap, now I see the face, the hair, the arms of the man I'm sitting with, and it's not Jack. But I don't know who it is.

I look down, suddenly fascinated with the weaving on the red blanket.

Jack starts to laugh, squeezing my shoulders lightly. "Wasn't me, was it?"

"Nope, not quite." I'm glad he's laughing, because I don't think I would be thrilled if the situation was reversed.

"It's okay, I can tell you all about my ex girlfriends if you want."

He may be joking, but it sounds like a hell of a good idea to me, even though I know he won't go there.

I'm looking for Grace and instead I catch the eye of a guy with short light hair.

Shit. The guy that wasn't Jack.

He smiles and walks toward me. I don't even know his name, but of course I remember kissing him, and of course he remembers me.

Jack seems to know what this is about, and before I can warn him, the man is standing above our blanket.

"Kate," he smiles. "How have you been?"

I stand, and hope that my confused look will speak for itself. "Pretty good, and you?"

Maybe I can get out of this quickly.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Have you talked to Becky lately?"

Becky. "No," I say truthfully, if only I knew who Becky was.

"Umm," I start hesitantly, not sure how to say this, "I actually don't really remember... your name."

I tell him all about the accident, and he tells me his name is Luke. He leaves us alone after too many minutes of awkwardness. Jack seems okay with it all, or pretends to be anyway.

"So that was interesting," Jack comments, with a little stress in his voice.

"More like awkward."

"You really don't remember him, huh?" he asks.

"Not his name or anything important, anyway," I tell him, eying Grace, full of envy. She's laughing and drinking what must be her fifth beer, talking with people she actually knows.

Jack looks down, suddenly interested in his fingernails. "But you don't remember me. You didn't even know my name when you woke up, and you still don't remember me. How is this any different?"

I realize he's full of all kinds of insecurities, but he's been nice enough, or stubborn enough- I can't decide which, to not share them with me.

It's hard to explain to Jack why he's different than Luke, or whatever his name was, because it's hard enough to wrap around in my own mind.

"I feel something when I'm with you. I think even in the beginning when I was really scared of what would happen, I stayed with you because I could tell there was something good between us," I tell him, hoping that it's enough.

He sighs. "I just don't know if I'm doing the right thing when I'm with you, that's all. I don't want to freak you out with too much, but I also want you to know that I'm there for you, so I guess I've been trying to balance that all this time and it's catching up with me."

"You've been great, Jack. Almost the whole time," I say. He already knows he messed up when he waited so long to tell me about our inability to conceive.

We leave it at that for the time being, and I relax back into him as the fireworks start. We can actually see them fairly well from this tiny park, and I can feel them vibrating off of us, shaking the ground and lighting up the sky. Jack leans forward a bit and wraps his arms around my stomach, kissing my neck, pausing there. I know what he wants to say, but after how many times I've replied with silence, it's no wonder he doesn't.

So I say it for him.

I turn my head toward his, and in this awkward position we lock eyes. I press a kiss against his lips.

It's like I can't catch my breath, my heart pounds in my chest, and even though there's virtually no chance that it won't be reciprocated, it's still the hardest thing to say.

"I love you."


	22. Rinse, Repeat

The continued enthusiasm for this story really amazes me, and I'm thankful to all of you for letting me know! Hate to say it but this fic is starting to wind down, and as usual I don't know how I'm going to end it. Give me your suggestions and wishes, I really do take them seriously!

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_It's like I can't catch my breath, my heart pounds in my chest, and even though there's virtually no chance that it won't be reciprocated, it's still the hardest thing to say._

"_I love you."_

Jack's eyebrows raise in what I can only assume is surprise. Well, if I was married to me I guess I'd probably feel the same way.

"What?" I ask, my face quickly flushing red as I drop my forehead into my hands. I can't look. This is like those scenes in movies that you don't think ever really happen to people, like when a guy tells a girl 'I love you' and all she can say is 'thank you'.

Oh God, he's not going to say thank you, is he?

"You mean it?" he finally asks. He would've been better off just smiling and saying it back, but no. Nothing can be quite that easy, can it?

"Of course I mean it," I tell him. Even though it's taken me so long to say it, I've felt it for awhile now. "Did it not sound like I meant it?"

He shakes his head no. "You're just probably under a lot of pressure. To feel things, I don't know." He laughs at himself.

Spoken like a true man.

Jack continues. "I don't want you to say something you don't mean, and I don't want you to say it because you feel like you're supposed to, that's all."

Up until tonight, until his earlier confession, I'd wondered why and how Jack seemed so confident, so unwavering through all of this. Hadn't it ever crossed his mind that I might not want to be with him? Of course it had. He's not stupid. But unlike me, he's great at hiding his feelings deep inside.

"Well," I start, moving towards him on the blanket, sitting back on my calves and threading his fingers through mine, "It took me a long time to work up the nerve to say it to your face, but I do mean it, Jack. I promise."

I practically had to shout this, as there are still fireworks blasting away above us, and I notice that we've managed to draw attention to ourselves, a few couples glancing not so subtly towards us.

"So say it again." He smirks at me, knowing that he's making me uncomfortable. I let out a huff of protest but let him pull me against his chest anyway. He rubs his hand along my back and looks to the sky again.

I'm sitting here across Jack's lap, my arms wrapped around his waist, looking like one of those girls I never thought I'd be. I've never felt so comfortably_ un_comfortable around someone as I do with Jack, but I think that's part of his charm. He knows how to push my buttons, and I don't think I'd change it if I could.

I have several things ahead of it on my list. Like getting my memory of the past four years back, for instance.

I kiss his neck softly, lingering briefly but aware that we're somewhat in public. I run my palm over the back of his hair, whispering in his ear. He looks down at me with soft eyes.

"Wanna hear something?" I ask him lightly.

"Depends."

"I love you," I saw slowly, this time looking him in the eyes. "Is that something you want to hear?" I laugh, even though my voice must be shaking with nerves. I can't wait for the day when those three words just pop out of my mouth without a second thought.

Since when did I start planning for my future, let alone _our _future?

"I love you too," he smiles. "But you were lucky enough to already know that. _You _weren't the one who had to wait around for a month to find out," he teases, cupping my cheek and kissing me on the lips, slipping me the tongue for a quick moment and catching me off guard, then pulls away.

"Has it really only been a month?" I wonder. "Seems like it's been forever."

Jack rolls his eyes. "Tell me about it."

The fireworks stop and Grace runs back over to us, introducing me to Carrie, who instead of a date has brought her dog, one of those yippee little things that basically looks like a rat. Eggo would demolish the poor little thing, but I suppose that's not the point.

At first I'm not sure why I'm supposed to care about this Carrie chick, or maybe how I knew her before, but suddenly it becomes very clear, when Graces laces her hand through Carrie's and they share a small smile. Jack's standing beside me, and he barely even flinches when I practically punch him in the back.

How do I not remember that Grace likes Dans _and _Carries?

I mean, whatever, I don't care if she's straight, or a lesbian, or can't make up her mind, but how the hell do I not remember this? And why didn't Jack feel the need to tell me? I just assumed, after that Dan guy at the clinic that there wasn't anything else to know.

Wrong again.

Jack and I leave soon after. All of the events of tonight have started to catch up with me, and by the time we're sitting in the cab, I knock away most of Jack's attempts at conversation.

"What's wrong?" he asks, concern in his tone. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I have a lot to think about," I say, holding my hand up in the air as if to signal him to stop. He seems content enough to sit in silence, knowing by now when to let me stew and when to pester. "Why didn't you tell me about Grace and whatsherface?"

Jack shrugs his shoulders. "Don't know. Didn't think about it, I guess. Apparently she made the discovery that she also uhm, liked women when the two of you lived together."

"Well that's just great timing," I laugh sarcastically, and I wonder if that's the one thing about Grace I couldn't seem to pinpoint.

"You should really tell me these things, you know," I tell him, thinking that if I were Jack, I would for sure not forget to mention this.

He seems taken aback. "Sorry that I can't remember to tell you every single detail about every aspect of your life."

"Oh, like how you couldn't seem to remember to tell me that I couldn't have kids? Like that?"

Jack's eyes harden instantly, and I know I've said the wrong thing, that we've already moved past it and it's no longer fair game.

He shifts in his seat, turning his body toward me and looking at me with a steely gaze. "You know what I want to say to you sometimes, Kate? I want to tell you, _think_. Just_ think _harder and it will all come back to you, and then finally I won't be blamed for every forgotten story, finally _I'll _have it easier, finally I'll be off the hook."

"You don't think I've tried that? I sit here, anywhere really, and try so hard to remember things that sometimes I think it makes it worse. I _want _you to be off the hook! And I'm sorry if I've blamed too much on you, or asked too much of you, but I'm sure as hell not going to apologize for not remembering."

So there. If I didn't convince Jack, at least I've finally convinced myself.

"Fine," he says curtly, going out of his way to stare out the window of the cab. It feels like we'll never get home.

"Why the hell do you put up with me then, Jack? If I'm that much of a burden, then why be with me and fight so hard for us, then complain about it? You can't have it both ways."

Finally he looks back at me, but this time his face is noticeably softer. Have I actually said something right?

"We've been over this already tonight. When you love someone, you'll do almost anything for them. You know that. You can't even remember me, yet you stayed with me after you woke up, just because you had a feeling-"

Enough rambling. "What are you getting at?"

"The only reason I 'put up with you' is because I love you. Maybe I don't have the right to complain about your memory loss, but I know for sure that I would be miserable without you."

Yeah, sure. "Well that's a nice speech, who wrote it for you?"

Jack sighs as the cab stops in front of our building, handing the driver a few bills. "Look, we obviously can't talk about this like adults tonight, so let's just give it a rest."

Maybe that's a good idea, but I'm completely distracted, enamored, by the images flashing through my brain. No, don't go away, don't go away!

_Grace kicks the door to my office open with her foot, one hand on her hip and the other grasping a clipboard. "What happened with that last dog?"_

"_Just needed an antibiotic and he should be fine," I say, distracted, typing away on my computer. _

"_You haven't forgotten who's coming in today, have you?" Grace laughs, forcing me to roll back in my desk chair and turn towards her. "Your favorite person ever."_

_Oh God, not him again. The holier than thou doctor who insists on making me feel like a bad citizen for not volunteering like him. _

"_I don't understand what you don't like about the guy, she laughs. "He's gorgeous. And totally into you."_

"_Yeah right," I choke out, "I think he feels about the same way about me as I do about him."_

"_As much as you're right, I think I'd bet you're wrong on this one." Grace has always been such a trash talker. _

"_That's ridiculous," I tell her, but suddenly Mia, the receptionist comes in, looking apologetic._

"_Sorry to interrupt your little meeting, but Jack Shephard is here. Where do you want him?"_

_As far away as possible, I want to say, but I smile and say "Go ahead and let him come back."_

_I wander into the hall and into an exam room, checking the cabinets to find out what needs restocked, but before I can get too far, I find myself checking my reflection._

"_Knock knock," his familiar voice says, carting in several large boxes. "Where do you want these?"_

"_Straight back here," I say, holding the door open for him, letting him pass through, and just maybe I choose to appreciate his frame like Grace likes to. _

_He hands over some forms that I have to sign, just like always. He _is_ doing the clinic a favor, I should probably be nicer to him._

"_Anything new in... spines?" I hesitate, fully aware of how stupid I just sounded. I gotta admit, the only thing I really know about the guy is that he's a spinal surgeon and his name is Jack. _

_He looks surprised to hear anything remotely nice come out of my mouth. I'm not quite sure why I've acted like such a bitch to him the past few times he's come in, but I figure it's never too late to try. _

"_Uh, no, not really. They need repairing, just like always." He laughs awkwardly and I join in. This clearly isn't going anywhere. "Why are you so interested, anyway?"_

_I guess it's his right to ask, after I've wanted nothing to do with him. "Oh, just trying to make conversation, you know. To maybe make up for how... unthankful I've been to you in the past."_

_He smiles, that cool, collected smile that bothered me before, but now he just looks confident, and hopefully forgiving._

_And absolutely gorgeous. Grace wins._

"_Alright, fair enough. Pseudo-apology accepted." He leans against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. I notice his arms. And his chest. And how tall he is. Okay, enough. "But just so you know, if you would've been this nice to me in the first place, I never would've babbled on and on to you about all that stuff I _know _you don't care about." He laughs when I visibly react. So he was trying to annoy me _on purpose. _I don't feel nearly as guilty now._

"_Caught me on a bad day I guess? I really am sorry."_

"_Just don't let it happen again," he warns lightly, joking. "Want some help unpacking those boxes?"_

_I don't even care if this will make Grace completely right, even though that drives me nuts. This guy is such a... man, I don't know, that he's causing me to think absolutely ridiculous thoughts. And causing me to do absolutely ridiculous things. _

_I kick the door to the exam room shut, causing Jack to turn around in surprise. The surprise never comes unglued from his face- not when I press him against the cold brick wall, and certainly not when I stand on my tippy-toes to kiss him. It was supposed to be irrational, and I was supposed to be rejected, or very embarrassed, or scolding myself for being unprofessional. _

_It _was_ all of those things. _

_But then he kissed me back._

_I pull away first, from a kiss that was probably too amazing, too passionate for the good of two strangers, to be met with the bewildered look plastered on his face, which I figure has to be mirroring my own. Luckily he returns my hesitant smile._

_What a great way to apologize._

I'm so excited to remember our first kiss that all I want to do is run inside and tell Jack all about it. But when I get upstairs, the lights in the bedroom are already off, and Jack's already pretending to be asleep.


	23. Insecurities

Looots of dialogue this chapter. Those two needed to talk some things over! Thanks for your past reviews, and I can only hope that you like this chapter enough to spoil me with them again. :)

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Insecurities

"Well, I can only be honest with you, Mrs. Shephard. You haven't progressed to the level I expected at this point."

I didn't need a brain doctor to tell me that. And since when do people call me Mrs. Shephard? I still think it sounds funny.

"Is there something... I've done wrong? Or anything I can do to help?"

Dr. Bennet sits down and lets a sigh out. "You haven't done anything wrong, trust me. People respond differently to head trauma, and unfortunately for you, you've just been a little slower on the pick up."

"That's what Jack keeps telling me," I tell him, rolling my eyes.

Jack. He's probably still pissed about last night. I don't remember him kissing me goodbye this morning before he went to work. To be honest, I'm still a little pissed too. I mean, I _finally _pour my heart out to him, tell him I love him, and then we fight about it? Of course we do.

"Oh yes, Dr. Shephard," Dr. Bennet smiles. "That's a talented husband you've got." I swear every doctor on this planet, or at least in the state of New York, knows who Jack is.

"I know," I smile. That's all anyone ever tells me when they find out I'm Jack's wife. Not that it isn't flattering, but I doubt anyone has those kinds of words for Jack when they figure out I'm his wife. They're probably like, "Oh, poor thing. How is she doing?" That kind of thing.

"I _am _remembering more than at first. And the memories are vivid, kind of like a TV show."

"That's good. What's the frequency of these... occurrences?" he asks me.

Not often enough.

"Probably every day or every other day. And when they're not vivid memories, I kind of get a sense that something is familiar, and sometimes that will trigger it. And sometimes the things people say can trigger a memory too."

Dr. Bennet nods assuringly. "I'm glad you've figured out what triggers them. It would only be to your benefit to try to make those situations happen as often as possible."

Well duh.

"Other than that, your scans look normal, you're in great health otherwise. I'm sorry it's not what you want to hear, but there's not much else we can do for you. It's a waiting game." He pats my knee like a grandpa would, and rolls back on his cushy stool.

This 'waiting game' has been the longest game of my life. Even longer than Monopoly. I try to smile back at him, to let him know I'm okay with everything. Lately it's been getting harder to pretend like I'm fine with waiting for my memory to come back. I never thought that four years of a person's life could ever be so crucial.

"So we'll schedule for another appointment about a month from now, unless you regain most of your memory, and then we'll need to see you right after that happens. Any other questions for me?"

"No," I tell him. "Hope I see you soon."

I'm left with no new information after my third trip to the same doctor, being told again to wait it out. I catch a cab and head back to the apartment, mulling over my fight with Jack and my lack of memory. I have such a good life.

In all honesty, I do have a good life. It's just a little annoying to be missing a chunk of memory, and to be in a fight with a husband I just met a little over a month ago. It's not like I'm homeless, or have some terminal disease. I still have my family. And most of my health.

It's only about three o'clock, so I have over four hours to kill before Jack gets home.

"Wait, can you turn right here please?" I call out to the cab driver. I pay him and walk into the bookstore.

I need review materials if I'm about to be a vet again. This whole thing makes me nervous. Mostly for the animals, and not for myself. I need a book or something. Or some flash cards.

I'm successful. One of the four books I bought has to be helpful. I walk the rest of the way home since it's a beautiful summer afternoon. Eggo greets me at the door.

And so does Jack.

Why the hell is he home?

He obviously sees the confusion on my face. "I had a light schedule today," he explains. "I couldn't think. I feel bad about last night."

Good. Because I feel bad too.

"Okay. So do you... want to talk about it or something?"

"Well, yeah."

"Okay. So let's talk." I try to sit down at the kitchen table, but Eggo is jumping all over me, riled up.

Jack holds up his leash. "I was about to take him on a walk. He's nuts right now."

I shove my hands in my pockets as we walk down the flight of stairs and out into the sunny day. I realize that I've picked up the habit from Jack.

"Look-"

"I'm-"

"Sorry," we both say, and crack into smiles. Relief lifts off of me.

"We were both frustrated," he says. "That's not how I wanted the night to end."

"Me either. Obviously."

Jack tugs Eggo back when he tries to chase a pigeon that's standing innocently on the sidewalk. "Even if the words didn't come out quite right, you still have to know that I meant those things. I can't lie to you."

"I know. I know that you're frustrated, and you've had a lot more problems with all of this than you ever admitted before last night. It pissed me off, but I'm honestly kind of relieved," I say, walking in step with him.

"Relieved? That I yelled at you?" He laughs with disbelief.

I shrug my shoulders, hoping that he'll take the point well. "I was starting to think that you were too perfect. It's nice to know that you're human too, Jack. I can't be the crazy one in this relationship all the time."

He laughs, this time genuinely. "Well I'm glad I'm forgiven so easily, but it still shouldn't happen. Not like that. And I'm sorry for it."

I grasp his free hand. "I'm sorry too. But it's okay for you to be insecure, and I just don't want you to hide it from me."

"I want you to understand where I'm coming from, though. I was... I don't know, afraid to tell you that I was afraid. I've never been more scared than I was when you were in that coma, and I was thinking that I could lose you. And then you woke up. I was relieved, and happy... but I was even more freaked out. But I knew that you had it worse. So I had to pretend to be... normal, I guess. For you."

He sure kept it up for a long time. It actually made me feel even more inferior.

"I'm not some fragile little china doll, Jack. You can't be afraid to hurt me anymore- and yeah, what happened to me _sucks. _It absolutely sucks. But I can take it, because believe it or not, I've actually learned a few things from this. I can take things I don't want to hear, and I need you to be completely honest with me. I can deal with it."

"I'll try," he says, slowing his pace and looking into my eyes. "But it's kind of natural for me to want to protect you from some things, so I can't absolutely promise that."

I shouldn't bring this up, but it's still taking up so much space in my thoughts. We're supposed to be past it, but I don't know that either of us are over it. That seems impossible.

"And the baby thing, Jack," I hesitate, hearing his sigh and seeing the way he rubs his forehead. He's stressed.

"No, Kate. I've apologized. Over and over. And I've done nothing since to make you believe that I would ever hide something like that from you ever again, so you can't just bring it up when you need something to argue with me about!"

That's not what I meant, actually. Although I don't blame him for thinking I was going to bitch him out again.

"No, umm, I'm not trying to bring it up for that reason. I uh, it's just that when I was at the gynecologist's a few weeks ago, she ran through all of it with me. Like my chances of getting pregnant and stuff."

"Less than five percent, right?" he asks softly, and I can tell even though he doesn't want to talk about it, he's willing to for me.

I nod, feeling the tears well in my eyes. It's not like I could even fathom having kids with Jack right now. I'm in no place to take care of another person, let alone someone who is so dependent. I still want them so, so badly, but the thing is, life isn't neat and tidy like that.

"I don't think it's ever going to happen, Jack. Those are terrible odds."

He nods. "I know. But... think of it this way. What were the odds of you getting into a wreck, going into a coma, and then coming out of it with selective amnesia?"

I smile, letting him have his moment. "Probably less than five percent," I admit.

"Exactly."

We walk in silence for awhile, stopping to pull Eggo away from a tiny little dog that started barking at him. It sounds cheesy, but Eggo is kind of like my own little furry child. He's grown so much, been there with me, through hard times with Lucy, and Jack, and everything in between.

Jack starts back into the baby talk. "So when we want this, a baby I mean, we can't give up hope, you know? I know it will be awhile. It needs to be awhile, because we're obviously not ready for that..."

"K," I answer. "We just won't give up."

"Besides, for now we can just practice," he laughs, pulling me into him, and I go willingly to his chest, letting him cup my face in his hands and lean down to kiss me. I wrap my arms around his waist and sneak my tongue to the corner of his lips. I'm still surprised every time I feel his lips against mine, and I always feel somewhat nervous and my stomach still flutters. We get kind of carried away, only pulling away when a surly teenager who walks past us mumbles some not so kind words.

Even though we've walked around the city for over an hour, stopping for some time in the park, Eggo isn't happy when we reach the lobby of our building.

"What are these?" Jack asks me, picking up the bag from the bookstore. He laughs when he sees how many I bought. "Think you picked enough?"

I'm calling for Chinese, since we've just made up and I don't want to make him mad at me again, or sick, by cooking something terrible.

"I'm nervous," I mouth quickly, trying to decipher the English on the other end.

Jack sits on the couch and spreads the books across his lap. "I'll help. If you want."

I smile at him, plopping down next to him on the couch, cuddling against his shoulder. "It's so overwhelming."

"Yeah, but you can do it. You've done it before," he teases.

"First," he starts, rising from the couch and walking over to the desk, only to begin digging through the drawers, "We need some note cards. And some markers in like... ten different colors or something like that. And a tape recorder."

"Why can't I just read over the books?" I ask. I don't see why we need to go through all of this trouble. But maybe it will work. Jack obviously got into medical school and became some world class surgeon or something. Over achiever.

"It's all about organization," he says smoothly, bringing the materials back over and setting them on the coffee table. "Now how long do you have before you take the test?"

"About a week and a half."

Oh God. I'm going to fail, fail, _fail. _I'm going to be an animal killer!

"But I don't _wanna _study," I whine. I just want to eat Chinese and sit on the couch, and be lazy."

"You can be lazy _after, _Kate. That's how it works."

Okay, maybe that's how it will work tomorrow. But I know how to procrastinate.

"So yesterday, right after our big fight thing, I remembered uh, that day that I kind of... pounced on you, I guess you could say."

"Which time?" he laughs.

"Our first kiss. At the clinic."

He smiles, but it doesn't seem to distract him from dividing the notecards out. "That great. So now you believe me?"

Okay, obviously not working.

"Come on," I whisper beside his ear, trailing my lips down his neck. "Don't you want to... make up?"

I push him onto his back on the couch, but I have a feeling he's going down willingly. My hands run under his shirt and my lips find his. When his hands hold fully onto my hips and grind me against him, I know I've won.

He kisses me deeply, pulling my shirt up and over my head, pushing me onto my back this time. His hands move to the button on my jeans, unzipping them and wiggling them down my legs. His fingers, on their way back up, don't miss an inch.

"You're right," he breathes, "we'll start on the studying tomorrow."


	24. Second Time's a Charm

I know I keep apologizing for the infrequent updates, but I don't see that unfortunate fact changing anytime soon, so please bear with me! :) I appreciate and read all of your reviews, and promise that I haven't been ignoring all of the PMs! I just haven't had much time to respond and thought you all might like an update instead of a response from me! Anyways, hope you like the update.

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Second Time's a Charm

"_If you hate me so much I don't know why the hell you agreed to live with me!"_

"_I don't hate you, Grace," I sigh, leaning against the refrigerator, watching her pace back and forth in the living room. Sometimes I can't forgive myself for choosing to live with a person like this._

_A crazy person, I guess would be fair to say. _

"_I hardly see you anymore, not with whatshisface. You're with him all the time," she sneers. _

"_Don't bring Jack into this. And I see you all the time. We work together, in case you'd forgotten."_

_She may have somewhat of a point. I'm admittedly with Jack a lot, but is it really my fault that he's absolutely perfect for me?_

_I didn't think so._

"_Look, I've noticed that you've been trying to pick fights with me lately, and I really don't buy that it's all about Jack. What gives, Grace? I thought this was working out fairly well before."_

"_It's nothing," she says, but I can tell she's lying. _

"_You're twirling your hair. I know you're lying," I say, earning a guilty glance from my crazed roommate. "What the hell is going on with you?"_

"_It would be just like you not to know, wouldn't it? I've been nitpicky lately because I just can't say what I want to say… you wouldn't understand."_

"_Of course I would," I lie, because I want everything out in the open, even if I don't understand it, and even if it pisses me off._

"_Okay, but it's going to freak you out."_

"_Go ahead, freak away," I encourage her._

"_I'm afraid that you're going to move out. I have a feeling that Jack's going to ask you to move in with him, or something like that, and you wont' be here anymore."_

_She thinks Jack is going to ask me to move in with him? It's only been a few months… _

"_You really think that?" I ask her, genuinely curious of how people on the outside view our relationship._

_Grace rolls her eyes. "You're going to marry the guy, Kate. He's crazy about you, and obviously you feel the same way."_

"_So all of this is about me possibly, theoretically moving out? Why wouldn't I understand? I completely understand." _

_She shakes her head. "No, that's not it, really. I never thought you wouldn't understand that part of it. I know that I've been acting weird around you lately, and not telling you about the person I'm dating…"_

"_You _have_ been strangely private about it," I offer, seeing as Grace usually likes to divulge explicit details that I just don't want to hear about. But this new guy she's dating is a big mystery to me. _

"_It's just… it's something new for me. And I don't want to freak you out but I know that it will anyway since I live with you and all. And I want you to know that it's okay if you're freaked out for awhile but I would really like to hear what you think. Eventually."_

_What the hell is she about to tell me? I can't think of a thing that would shock me that much. Not coming from Grace, my prior college enemy and one of the most annoying people on the planet. But somehow I've actually grown to love her, in a strange sort of way. _

"_You know that guy you think I've been seeing? Well, she's not a guy. She's a girl."_

"_Why would you date a girl?" I ask, completely unaware of what's about to hit me._

"_I would date a girl… because I like girls, Kate. It's what I've been trying to tell you for awhile now."_

_I know that my mouth must be hanging open, but she was right. I'm a little freaked out. "So what happened to… guys?"_

"_I like them too."_

I can't decide when I wake the next morning whether I dreamed Grace's surprise!-I'm-bisexual speech or if my strange imagination made it up to piss me off. But either way, I know that Grace has a girlfriend named Carrie _and _a boyfriend named Dan, so I've got my story straight enough.

It doesn't take me long to realize that Jack is trying to rouse me out of bed with very strong smelling coffee. He's tried everything to get me studying for these boards. I have three days until I take them, and so far Jack has been a good tutor- forcing me to read until my eyes have gone blurry, making piles of flash cards and refusing to stop until I've answered every question correctly. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to kill him from time to time.

The alarm clock on the bedside table reads 8:30. And it's Saturday. It's just not right.

I hear Jack's bare feet padding their way through the plush carpet and toward our room, and smell the coffee getting stronger. The mattress suddenly shifts downward and his hand rubs up and down my arm.

"Wake up, lazy," he teases. "It's 8:30."

"I know, and that's precisely why I'm not getting out of bed right now."

"Come on, I brought you coffee," he laughs, and waves the steaming cup in front of my face.

"I remember Grace telling me she was into girls," I blurt out. "Isn't that a weird thing to remember?"

"Oh God," he starts, and then breaks into a genuine bout of laughter. "That was actually pretty hilarious from my viewpoint."

I sit up, not happily, and hit him on the arm. "It doesn't sound hilarious."

"No, it was. Believe me. You were convinced that Grace was in love with you for every reason imaginable. 'Oh my God Jack, she's trying to hit on me! She asked me to go bra shopping with her!'" he mocks me in his best falsetto voice. "Anyway, come on, we've gotta start studying."

"We?" I ask. "Because last time I checked, I was the one who has to take these damn tests," I sigh.

"Nah, I know, I've just read all of this stuff so much I feel like I could take them." An easy grin splits on his face and he leans down to kiss me. "Good morning."

I'm not so sure about the 'good' part. "Morning," I grumble.

By eleven I've gone through the note cards twice, and can't take it anymore. I manage to sneak away from Jack's watchful eye to give Lucy a call. I haven't seen her in awhile.

"But you can't leave right now!" he stresses, picking up the green note cards from the rainbow assortment. "You haven't memorized green yet!" A few days ago I would've found this insistent behavior cute, but that was before Jack turned into my worst nightmare.

I kiss him for a long time, hoping that my physical advance will take his mind off of my impending failure at reviving my career for at least a few minutes. He nips at my lips slowly and settles his arms tightly around my waist, pulling my body against his.

"Now I'm gonna go to lunch with Lucy and we'll probably stop in a few stores too," I whisper after he's pulled away. "We can continue this when I get back…" I say, smirking.

"Which part?" Jack calls after me.

Lucy is right on time, meeting me half way between our apartments.

"So how's Saint Jack?" she asks sarcastically, but then pulls me into a hug.

"Driving me a bit nuts right now," I laugh, falling into step with her as we head to one of our favorite cafes. "But it's for good reason. I'm taking the boards again on Tuesday."

I notice how much Lucy seems to have turned it around for herself. She appears like the Lucy I actually remember, dressed to perfection, her makeup flawless, skin glowing. She looks happy. I want to apologize to her for not being around much lately, but deep down I think we needed some time apart- especially after our disastrous attempt at living together.

Lucy rolls her eyes and tucks a strand of her long black hair behind an ear. "You'll do fine. You and Jack are both academic freaks of nature. He probably gets off on those flash cards, and the highlighters, don't even get me _started _on the highlighters-"

"Luce!" I slap her, but laugh, knowing that she has a point, even if it's put in her own uniquely blunt way. Jack and I certainly have some nerdy tendencies.

"So what about you and the subway guy? How's that going?"

She grabs my arm suddenly and beams. "Oh my God, Kate, he's so amazing! He's perfect! Funny, smart, hot, has some money, knows how to treat a girl that's for sure," she ends, wiggling her eyebrows up and down, and I get the feeling she doesn't mean just going out to dinner.

"What was his name? Brian?"

"Ryan," she corrects me. "So we haven't talked in about forever. You have 30 seconds," she starts, glancing down at her watch, "to tell me everything important. Go."

"I don't think 30 seconds would justify everything-" I protest.

Lucy taps her watch. "You're wasting precious time!"

"Okay," I start, wracking my brain, digging up things that I've already tried to forget. "Jack is driving me nuts with all of this studying stuff, but sometimes I try to have sex with him just to get him to stop, we had dinner with my parents the other night and my mother totally knew what they had interrupted and kept staring at Jack's pants and it was really awkward, I happened to do amazingly well on my practice boards and that freaks me out because what if I really fuck them up this time around? I've wanted to talk to you a lot lately but I didn't want to get in your space and I'm sorry about how I treated you, I don't even care if you don't like Eggo, with that said, I think this Ryan guy you're dating needs to lay off the spray tan a little bit but otherwise I approve. This morning I remembered Grace telling me that she's bisexual- thanks for the heads up, by the way, and _oh, _I told Jack I love him. Finally."

I take a breath, amazed at what has just flown out of my mouth.

"Wow," Lucy states, nodding her head. "I'm very impressed, I must say."

"That was like, a week of therapy. For free," I laugh, noticing that we've arrived to the restaurant.

"I have many talents," Lucy boasts. "Did you mean it, though?"

"Mean what?" I just talked about 73 different things, so I'm not so sure what she's asking about.

She blinks at me like I'm slow or something. "When you told him you loved him? Or were you just trying to get him to shut up and have sex with you?"

"I meant it," I saw automatically, because I do mean it, even if it still feels strange. "But it was good for the latter too."

We take the menus from the waiter and tell him we need a few minutes to decide.

"If I didn't love you like a sister, I wouldn't pass up a chance to sleep with Jack."

I stare at her with surprise. "Just sayin'," she laughs.

I know that I have nothing to worry about- not because I know just how Jack tends to feel about Lucy, but because I know Jack would never do that to me. With anyone. And I have the confidence to say that I would never cheat on him either.

"So how's the whole memory thing coming along? It hasn't magically come back has it?"

Of course not. That _probably _would have been important enough to be included in my 30 second speech.

"What would you do about it, Luce? I mean, I'm trying to be patient and everything, but it's starting to feel like my memory will never come back."

She shrugs, like it's the simplest problem she's ever heard, with the simplest of solutions. "I would just make my own."

After I leave lunch with Lucy, her words are still on my mind. I never thought that I would be taking advice from someone like her, who often seems too petty and sarcastic for her own good. 'I would just make my own,' is sticking with me, and I've got a crazy idea. It's something that I need, even if it's not the same as the first time around. At least if I never remember the first time, I'll remember the second, barring another amnesia-producing accident.

Jack's sitting at the kitchen table, the newspaper spread out in front of him. He glances at his watch and stands up to greet me.

"That was kinda quick. I was expecting you'd drag that lunch out as long as possible," he chuckles and leans down to kiss me. "I thought we could go over that practice test."

"You love me, right?" I ask him, suddenly aware that my breath has been sucked out of me. "You say that you'll do anything for me?"

"Of course," he says, his face beginning to show worry. "Kate, what's wrong? What happened?"

"Then follow me," I say, pulling him along by the hand.

Jack stops me. "What about the boards? You still have a lot to go over."

I roll my eyes at him. "There are things that are more important than that, Jack. Just trust me."

He finally stands. "Where are we going?"

Okay, so maybe it's a stupid idea, and maybe Jack will laugh in my face and refuse, but I can't get it off my mind. Maybe it won't be glamorous or planned out, but I'll remember it, and that's all I want.

"We're getting married."

Again.


	25. Two Days

Hope you'll enjoy the update. I should be updating this more often now and I hope you'll reward me for it with reviews! :)

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Two Days

"Married? In case you haven't noticed, we kinda already are," Jack says with a rather puzzled look on his face.

I managed to pull him all the way down to the lobby before he stopped me. At this point I'm not sure what I was expecting- that I could drag him to Lower Manhattan without him questioning a thing?

"Well, yeah, technically we're married, but I don't remember a damn thing about the wedding, except for your mother harassing me over my choice of flowers while we were planning. That hardly counts," I tell him, tugging on his hands to show him I'm serious.

He shakes his head. "You've seen pictures, and-"

"Pictures don't count, Jack. They're nice to look at and everything, but I want something that I can actually look back on."

He rubs the back of his head and looks towards me. "It's not exactly going to be... glamorous this way," he says. "I mean, we'll have to do it at city hall unless you plan on holding me hostage and flying to Vegas," he laughs.

"I don't care," I tell him sincerely. "I really don't. We could get married in McDonald's and it wouldn't matter to me."

Well, maybe I shouldn't go as far as to liken our marriage to the smell of grease, but hopefully I've put my point across.

"You're crazy, you know that?" he laughs, and I'm glad to see him smiling, even if it's because he thinks I'm certifiably insane.

I smile back. "I've been told a few times, yeah."

He leans against the railing, arms folded across his chest but otherwise relaxed. "So if we do this, if I go along with it, will you actually study for these boards?"

"You're dishing out an ultimatum? I thought I was the one who was supposed to bribe you into this."

He shakes his head in disagreement. "Think of it as an incentive. You get what you want, and I get what I want. What's so wrong about that?" His eyebrows are raised and somehow he still looks all relaxed and cool, like he's posing for a calendar or something.

I want to be happy with his logic, but it doesn't seem like he needs this the way I do.

"Okay," I agree, hoping that he'll forget about my end of the deal. Studying is overrated and I'm beginning not to care about how things turn out with the boards. What if I wasn't meant to be a vet anyway? "So you'll do it?"

He can't help the smile that breaks across his face, making him look boyish and free, like someone who doesn't have a mess of a wife with amnesia.

"I already married you once," he says sarcastically, "but what the hell?"

Pulling me into a tight hug, he lifts me off the ground and holds me until I feel like I can't breathe. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and feel like I've been transplanted into someone else's life. Everything feels so good, finally. He sets me down and holds my hands between us.

"So what are we waiting for? Let's get married."

Suddenly there's a smirk on Jack's face and he rolls his eyes. "You're ridiculous sometimes, Kate. It's 4 o'clock on a Saturday. The marriage bureau isn't open."

Well damn. Now I feel especially stupid for dragging him down here without any thought.

"Guess we'll have to wait until Monday," he adds.

I agree, though can't help but be a little disappointed. I'd already started picturing tonight- that maybe I would finally feel that I- the here and now Kate, chose to marry this man, and that it wasn't already decided for me. Not that I don't trust the old me, but there's a certain cloud of mystery enveloping my old life.

He starts to head back up the steps to the apartment. "Come on, you still need to memorize the green flash cards, and no offense but you're a little shaky on yellow."

Ugh. Crazy, obsessed with studying, can't-let-me-fail Jack has returned already.

"I refuse to go back upstairs," I tell him. "Grab Eggo and let's go to the park."

He cocks his head to the side and shoots me an exasperated look. "Kate."

"Jack," I retort. "It's not Monday yet, is it? It's too nice outside to sit around in the apartment."

Begrudgingly he agrees, and as I wait for him to return with Eggo my mind starts to shift around, piecing together a memory.

"_I'm getting married!" my mother tells me, and pulls me into a hug even though I've offered no reaction. _

"_What? To who?" I ask her, knowing that I'd been a bit absent in her life lately, since Jack and I had gotten married fairly recently and were still trying to settle down. But surely I would have to know she was dating someone long enough to consider marrying them!_

_Jack is sitting beside me, completely tense, as if he's waiting for the explosion. _

"_His name is Rob," she gushes. "And he's completely wonderful and it's meant to be. You'll love him Katie," she says endearingly. _

_I'd gotten so used to my mom being alone after she split from my dad that I no longer thought about what it must be like for her to be alone. Sometimes I feel guilty for not spending more time with her, but apparently she's been plenty busy enough with this Rob guy._

"_Why don't you and Jack come over tomorrow night to meet Rob and we can have dinner, get to know each other?" she suggests, and I feel myself nodding dully. _

"_Congratulations," Jack offers, squeezing my knee, letting me know that he'll be there for me later on tonight when I will inevitably rant. _

"_Yeah," I say meagerly, "congratulations."_

Eggo is licking my calf, letting me know he wants attention and Jack looks at me with concern.

I wave him off and follow him out to the sidewalk, where we set off for the park on the warm summer afternoon. The sun is low in the sky but still shining bright, casting long shadows on the concrete.

"I was just remembering when my mom told us she was marrying Rob, that's all. Not such a big deal."

"No," he starts, "that's great. Take what you can get," he jokes.

Since it's such a nice night we opt to walk to the park, even though it's pretty far. Eggo loves us for it and trots happily along, pulling on the leash when he sees groups of pigeons spread across the pavement.

"Well now we can surprise _her_. Tell her we got married again," I laugh.

It doesn't take much to shock my mother, but at least she probably won't be offended that she wasn't invited since no one will be and has already been to one of our weddings.

We walk in relative, comfortable silence, our hands laced together between us. I know I have a rather active imagination, but I swear, more tonight than ever, we get random smiles from strangers passing us on the street, like they're thinking, 'Oh, look how happy they are. Look how lucky they are.'

I know I was in a coma and that's generally not considered lucky, and hell, amnesia isn't very lucky either, but I _am_ lucky. I'm lucky to have Jack, and my mom and Rob, Lucy, Grace- all of these loving, understanding people around me who could've completely abandoned me over a month ago when all of this started.

We reach the park and find a nice wide stretch of grass where I spread the blanket I've brought. Eggo wanders around until he finds the perfect stick to chew on, then flops down on the blanket with the wood wedged between his front paws, gnawing away at it.

"Simple minds," Jack comments, rubbing Eggo behind the ears.

I'm briefly aware that Jack has launched into a speech about one of his patients at the hospital, and nod along accordingly as my mind reaches yet again to a place I haven't discovered.

"_Oh my God!" I shriek as Lucy and I fall into a pile of giggles, both of us entirely too drunk to realize what we're even laughing about. "That is SO funny!"_

_There's another drink being handed my way, and although I hardly need it, I accept it and suck it down greedily, forgetting momentarily about that bastard who just dumped me, but coincidentally remember that I'm now homeless._

"_I don't have anywhere to live! I'm moving ASA.... ASAP?" I scream at her, over the music, wondering if I'd gotten the letters in the right order._

_Half of the university must be packed in the bar, and before I know it, Grace Kennedy has shoved her way between us. _

"_You need somewhere to live?" she asks, excited. _

"_Yeah!" I tell her in my drunk state and she wraps an arm around my shoulders. I do the same in return, sharing some sort of drunken bond with her. "My roommate is moving in with her stupid boyfriend. I need someone to take her spot!"_

_She's smiling and nice, and nothing like she's been for the past few years of school._

"_I love you! You just saved my ass!" I yell and hug her._

Jack's looking at me strangely when I snap out of it. By now he knows that when I get like this it means I'm having a memory, and he has to sit there and wait it out.

"Ugh, I just remembered how I became friends with Grace- through a cloud of vodka," I wince. "That was so obnoxious," I laugh and shake my head.

Jack's knits his eyebrows together. "Those memories weren't very far apart. Think that's a good sign?"

I nod. "It has to be."

We stray from the topic and he pulls something from his back pocket- the set of green flash cards.

"Jack," I warn him lightly. "Seriously, get off it, will you?"

He shakes his head. "I promised I was going to help you, and I'm going to make sure that happens."

I don't realize that he's shuffling through the cards, holding them up for me to define. Instead, I'm taken away.

"_This is Jack," I tell my mother, watching as my newly acquired boyfriend meets my mom for the first time. _

"_Pleasure to meet you," he says politely and my mother does the same. _

_I wanted to wait longer until the introduction, but Jack began insisting after I mistakenly met his mother at his apartment once. I figured it was only fair that now I introduce him. _

"_Kate tells me you're a doctor," she says excitedly. "That must be amazing."_

"_I guess so," Jack admits sheepishly. "It's not like the TV shows though," he laughs._

_My mother's attention snaps away from Jack and onto me. "Oh, Katie honey, I went to that bra store you were telling me about the other day, you know the one down on 8th? You were right, it's such a great place!"_

_I watch Jack's face as my mother talks about bras, apparently missing that filter between her brain and her mouth. I quickly change the subject, but then she stands and walks into her room._

"_I'm sorry," I mumble. "But you're the one who wanted to meet her," I laugh. _

_My mother has never _really _scared any of my boyfriends off before, not that she's met all that many, but I don't doubt that she's made them wonder what exactly they were getting themselves into. _

_She returns with a square black bag filled with tissue. And before I know it, she's pulling a red bra from it, practically dangling it in front of Jack's face. _

"_Look at this one Kate. I just love it. The salesgirl had to convince me to buy it though. It was just so-"_

"_Mom!" I yell at her. "I'm sure Jack's not interested in seeing your bras!"_

_She looks shocked that I would even say such a thing, and Jack's face has turned beet red by now, slumped back into the couch, avoiding both of our stares. _

"_For heaven's sake, Jack's a doctor!" she exclaims, like this has anything to do with his bra-seeing quota. _

_Jack stands and excuses himself. "I'll be right back," he says, blushing, throwing me a confused glance on his way out of the room._

_I wouldn't judge him if he ran to his car and sped away. I'd like to._

"Good God," I breathe when I'm thrusted back into Central Park. "I'm sorry for all that I've put you through."

I start laughing, half because of the memories I've had in the past few hours, and half because Jack was crazy enough to marry me in the first place.


	26. The Little Things

I've come out of my cave of watching the first sneak preview for this week's episode on repeat, for just enough time to give you this chapter! Reviews have been a little bit down, so I hope that everyone still likes it, and if you have suggestions please don't hesitate to let me know. :) So yes, reviews are extremely appreciated!

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The Little Things

It's been rather hard to concentrate on studying for these stupid boards when instead my mind is taking me on so many trips that I'm beginning to think this is what it must feel like to be on LSD. Jack's becoming increasingly frustrated with my inability to study and waves the colored cards in front of my face.

"Jack," I scoff. "Stop it. You know I can't do this right now."

He shakes his head. "Just turn the rest of your mind off and concentrate on the cards. After the test you can space out as much as you want," he reminds me, setting the pink stack down on the carpet where we're sitting, and picking up the dreaded yellow pile.

"Not yellow," I complain, knowing that the nervous system is my worst area. Jack finds it impossible to understand why _I _don't understand, but I keep reminding him that he spends his days buried in nerves so he has a natural advantage.

"Fine," he says, shaking his head. "But if you paralyze a poor, sweet little animal, don't come crying to me," he tells me, clearly kidding.

"Oh God, don't stress me out more than necessary." I punch him on the arm and try to squirm away when he locks both arms around my waist from behind and pulls me into his chest.

After a few moments of tickling he gives up his grip and reaches for the tape recorder on the coffee table. He hold it up to my face and clicks it on.

"Name the signs of lymphoid leukosis in poultry. Go."

Thankfully I'm rescued from this ridiculous question by another flicker of a memory, of another time in Central Park.

"_Only eight dollars for couples," a large black woman calls out to us. We're taking a walk through the park on a warm fall afternoon, basking in what may be one of the last warm days until spring. _

_She has a table set up in the grass and two empty chairs across from her. A sign on the front reads 'Fortunes'. _

"_No thanks," Jack responds politely. _

_I pull him back by the hand. "Come on," I pout. "It'll be fun."_

_Probably so I'll stop nagging him, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet, taking four bills from it and handing them to the large woman in front of us. _

"_Sit down, baby," she says to us, proudly showing off the gap between her front teeth with her wide smile. _

_Jack sits down beside me, begrudgingly, shooting me a look. _

"_Your right hand on the table," she says to me, "and your left," she tells Jack. "Palms up."_

_She takes a hold of Jack's hand first and he shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. "Settle down, baby," she tells Jack. "Let Miss Bee work."_

"_You're smart, maybe too smart for your own good. Too serious too-"_

"_No, I just-"_

"_Shut up, baby, let me do the talking. You're too serious sometimes, but this one over here," she nods to me, "is trying to change that, isn't she?"_

_Next she takes my hand. "You need some stability. That's what this man over here is doing for you."_

_Jack's eyes meet mine and I nod at her._

_She goes on, pinpointing some things and completely missing on others, but by the end, she's made some interesting predictions._

"_Now you," she says harshly to Jack, "need to go away for a minute. I gotta talk to this girl of yours."_

_He's confused but does so anyway. It's funny to me that a lady whose favorite word is 'baby' and who wears a purple turban can strike fear in him._

_Miss Bee holds both my hands tightly. "I don't wanna ruin the surprise for you, but he's got an important question for you..."_

"_You mean...?" I gasp, wondering how I hadn't been able to guess by now. Jack's terrible at hiding things._

"_A week from now," she nods, letting go of my hands to let me know our time is up._

"_Okay, well, thanks I guess," I say, thinking that I should ditch Jack and come back here tomorrow to find out all the scoop._

_Miss Bee smiles at me while reaching underneath the table for her Coke. "It's gonna be a good one, baby."_

"What happened?" Jack's asking when I'm aware of him again, the tape recorder still in front of my face. "What did you remember?"

"Miss Bee," I laugh. "Our couples' psychic."

He raises his eyebrows in recognition. "Ahh, good old Miss Bee."

"She told me you were gonna ask me to marry you, you know."

"Huh. And I always thought she was a fraud who couldn't-"

"_So do you wanna come up, watch a movie or something?" Jack asks me, fingers tracing my palm delicately. _

_We're stopped outside his apartment. We've been standing here talking for the past fifteen minutes, dancing around the inevitable question. This is our third date, and after spending half of our date making out in public places, there's no doubt that we're extremely attracted to each other. _

_My stomach flutters and I feel like I should be more indecisive than I am. My brain is screaming 'Yes! Go upstairs and have your way with him,' and hell, I'm going to listen. "Sure."_

_He leads me upstairs. I've never been in his apartment before, and find that it's a standard issue bachelor pad, but thankfully cleaner than most I've been in before. _

_He shuts the door behind him and takes his jacket off, laying it over the back of a kitchen chair. "So."_

"_So," I repeat, not sure how fast this is supposed to happen. He's leaned against the back of the kitchen counter, his arms folded easily across his chest._

_I close the distance between us with a few steps and his hands grip my waist suddenly. He looks at me with a smirk, like he's daring me to make the move._

_Our lips meet halfway, aggressively, heavy breathing steaming out of us, hands traveling, Jack walking me backwards to the couch, where he falls on top of me. There's no time to question anything even though my mind is racing. I arch into him when his lips find my neck and travel downwards, his hands up my shirt._

_My body is on fire and I let my hands roam over his hard body. I pull his shirt up and over his head, greeted by his warm chest and comforting arms. _

"_Tattoos?" I laugh. "Wasn't expecting that."_

_He shrugs it off and pulls me onto his lap so my legs are on either side of his. He's slowing things down, I think giving me a chance to pull away and stop this if I want. I do pull away, but only from his lips as I stare him straight in the eyes, letting a small smile play on my lips as I tease my fingers over his stomach and then lower, unbuttoning his jeans._

"Dammit Jack!" I say as I'm transported back into the living room, finding him stroking my arm and I figure this is probably what made the memory stop. "You interrupted us!"

"Us? What?" he asks, confused, and then I remember that he can't see my memories, even if he was in them.

"You interrupted us about to have sex!"

He laughs suddenly. "How far did we get?"

I roll my eyes and huff. "I was about to take off your pants."

"Alright," he laughs again, cupping my chin and kissing me slowly, with wet, warm lips and roaming hands. "I can fill in the blanks if you want," he smirks, kissing me again, his tongue finding its way into my mouth and twirling with mine deliciously.

Well, it's obviously better than naming the signs of lymphoid leukosis in chickens.

"Okay..."

"Or you can just take my pants off now if you want," he smiles, not knowing that it's exactly what I'm about to do.

My fingers fumble with the button but manage to pull them down, reaching inside his boxers to grip him.

Jack must think I'm trying to kill him, because at the worst time possible, I have another memory. I hear him groan in disappointment when my hand stops moving over him.

"_So I told you that your irregularity could mean many things, Kate," Dr. Kensington tells me in a clinical but still soft voice. "But what the tests have told me is that your right fallopian tube is damaged. In what way is anyone's guess. It could've been this way since birth, or there could've been some kind of trauma to it," she explains._

"_And this means what?" I'm completely freaked out, because the way that she's talking is too sympathetic for her just to tell me I have to take a pill._

"_Well, the other issue here is that your left fallopian tube also has some blockage in it. What this means," she begins, "is that your chances of conceiving are very, very low."_

_I'm stunned. I mean, I know that I've never wanted kids all that much, mostly because I've never been able to picture myself as a mother, but the fact that I probably can't even if I wanted to is what bothers me. It seems so final. _

"_How low?"_

"_If I had to put a number on it, about five percent."_

"_And there's nothing else we could do?" _

"_There are some treatments that offer some advantages," she says. "But why don't we talk about that when you and your husband are ready to start trying?"_

_For all I know, if we ever want kids, we need to start trying now, if it'll ever happen. It's funny how this has changed my opinion so much._

By the time I'm back with Jack in the living room, he's gathered himself and zipped his pants back up. He can tell there's something wrong.

"Five percent is all, huh?" I ask him sadly, and he realizes what I've just seen.

Jack wraps his arms around me comfortingly, burying his head in the crook between my neck and shoulder, pressing a kiss there. "I'm sorry," he says simply.

Eventually he pulls away. "She said there are treatments though. For when we want to start trying," I tell him, but he looks surprised at this.

"What?" he questions, pulling himself up and taking a seat on the couch. I sit down next to him. "You told me that it was just five percent, and that was it. That was the end of it. That we had to... I don't know, leave it up to nature."

"Maybe- maybe I remembered wrong!" I start, desperately searching for a reason why I would've lied to Jack. "Maybe-"

"So you think everything that you've remembered is wrong too?" he asks genuinely, as though he's willing to give me a chance to explain it's all a misunderstanding.

"Well no, probably not," I admit. "I mean, I know you said that I didn't really want kids, but I can't imagine that I would keep that from you, Jack. That's just... so wrong."

He nods in agreement. "I know it is."

"What exactly did I tell you? When I found out?" I stare down at my knees, unable to look Jack in the eyes because I have a bad feeling.

"You just told me there was nothing we could do. Nothing about treatment or anything like that, if that's what you're asking." He glares at me. I've put him through this emotional hell all because I couldn't admit there was another possibility that we could get pregnant.

"Please, don't be mad at me about this now. Please," I beg him. "I would never do that to you now. You know that I want kids now!" I yell, after he stands up and walks out of the room.

I follow him into the bedroom. "Jack please, can't we forget about this? I'm not the same person that I was before the accident and for once I think that's a good thing."

"That was pretty damn selfish, Kate. You knew what having kids meant to me, and sure, I respected the fact that you weren't sure you wanted any, but I deserved to know that it wasn't as hopeless as you made it seem."

Was I really such a bad person that I would hide this from my own husband? I can't even imagine.

"You have to believe me when I say that I never remember thinking that I didn't want children. I just never thought about it much, so I guess when that diagnosis came along I chose to believe that was... the way it was supposed to be, I guess. And I'm sorry for it."

"Yeah," he says, with some kind of pity in his voice, taking off his watch and setting it on the bedside table. "I bet you are."


	27. Dream of Mine

21 reviews last chaper- thank you! And SO close to 500! That's incredible... seriously. :) I just noticed that I started writing this just over a year ago, and I've only managed to post 27 chapters. Pathetic, right?

Anyway, here's a little shameless bribe. I have a secret review count in my head, and it's a number between 498 and 520. If your review happens to be this number, then you win a oneshot... This number needs to be hit this chapter, too. Good luck, and enjoy. :)

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Dream of Mine

It's Monday, and it's blatantly obvious that Jack isn't going to jump out of bed and decide to renew his vows to me. I spent the night on the couch, despite the fact that we talked for an hour after he stormed away. I've learned that there's no reasoning with an angry Jack.

It's not like he doesn't have the right to be upset- I've tried putting myself in his situation, although it's technically impossible, given that he doesn't have ovaries, and I understand why he's angry. But what I _don't _understand is how I'm supposed to apologize for something I did in the past, when I can't even remember what my justification for lying to him was, or why I was so afraid to tell him there might've been some other way to get pregnant.

I realize how upset I have to be about this fight, because it's 6 am and I'm wide awake, listening to Jack rustle around the bedroom and turn on the shower. I'm hoping to confront him when he comes out.

I've figured out that being upset doesn't help me remember anything- I haven't had a single flash since before the fight.

In the kitchen I put on a pot of coffee and toast a bagel for him, knowing that it's probably not going to fix anything but it's certainly worth a try.

When he emerges from the bedroom, he hesitates when he sees me, then brushes past and over to the coffee pot.

"Thanks," he grumbles when he takes the bagel from the toaster and smears cream cheese over it.

I approach the situation with hesitance. "Jack, I think we need to talk about this."

He arches his eyebrows, taking a sip of the steaming coffee. "What's left?"

"I just- I wish I could explain to you what happened, why I lied to you, but obviously I can't. Not yet anyway."

He nods. "I know that. It doesn't make what you did any less offensive, though."

What I can't work out in my head is why he's so angry about this when he knew that I wasn't all that keen on having children anyway? And from what I've heard, from my mother and Rob, and Lucy, apparently I was really devastated too.

I choose my words carefully. "So I was upfront with you about the fact that I wasn't sure I wanted kids, right?"

He agrees. "Yeah, but like I said before, it was something I was able to look past because I knew that I wanted to marry you. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you to have a change of heart, but I chose to accept it either way."

"My mom and Rob, that night we were over at their house for dinner, when we were looking at their wedding album and we came across that picture of us dancing… Rob said that it was nice to see us looking so happy, and then you explained to me all about how we couldn't conceive…" I trail off, looking to Jack for confirmation.

He leans back on the counter, looking slightly less defensive than he did last night, maybe seeing that I'm trying to put together all the pieces. I'm sure he wants to know why I lied to him just as badly as I do. "What are you trying to get at?" he asks.

"What I don't understand is why I was so devastated when I didn't really want kids in the first place- I mean, everything I've heard points towards me being depressed about it, and I don't get it. Why would I mourn something that I didn't want?"

He shrugs his shoulders, thinking for a moment. "Because you knew you were taking away a dream of mine, even if it wasn't a realistic one, even if it wasn't something you wanted for yourself."

Jack sets the mug down on the counter and runs a hand through his short hair. "Plus, having kids wasn't something you were staunchly against- that's the impression I always had, anyway. You never wanted to talk about it, and I didn't want to push you really hard. We hadn't even been married that long and we wouldn't have been ready for them anyway…"

I'm touched that Jack is trying to explain himself, after what I did, and the fact that he's not yelling anymore.

"Jack, I promise you, the minute I remember exactly how it all went down, I'll tell you what happened. No matter how bad it makes me look."

We lock eyes. "I'll hold you to that."

I step closer to him and he eventually unfolds his arms and looks more relaxed. "I can't say it enough times, but I really am sorry."

He gives a half-smile, but his eyes aren't in it. "I know."

Maybe I shouldn't bring this up, but now seems as good a time as ever. "So when I told you there was nothing else we could do, why didn't you… I don't know, look into it more?"

He looks taken aback. "Fertility isn't exactly my area of specialty, Kate," he snaps. "And why the hell would I suspect that you weren't telling the whole story to begin with?"

"No, that's- that's not it," I stutter, "I just wondered, since you're a doctor and all why you didn't think there might be another way. I'm not trying to insult you, Jack- I'm just making sure that I know everything there is to know."

He pauses again, taking a breath like he's about to say something, then stops. He starts again. "We'd already been through so much, and I guess I didn't want to find some supposed miracle and then have it not work. IVF and all that stuff- that's a lot to put you through if it's not what you want. And I believed you when you said you thought it was meant to be. I started to think that way too, I- I can't explain."

"Thank you," I say, then step forward and hug him, smiling with relief when after a few moments he wraps his arms lightly around my shoulders. I see the clock on the oven in front of me. "I know you have to get going," I mumble into his shirt.

He leaves me with that same half-smile and a warning about studying for the boards, and then closes the door behind him. I attempt to study the note cards but find that I'm reading the same one five times and not absorbing a thing. Despite the amount of distraction I've had, I actually don't feel too bad about my preparation. Jack's been a good tutor, and although my brain is about half empty and working overtime to retrieve the other part, I'm not completely hopeless when it comes to academics.

Eventually I settle into studying and find my body releasing a little, my muscles less tense, my jaw unclenched finally. Eggo races into the living room and licks my face, demanding some attention before he settles to the floor with his favorite bone. After an hour of studying the dreaded yellow stack, I feel like I've comprehended as much as I'm going to.

I'm going to have to trust myself.

Grace calls, checking on my progress and asks if I need any help. She's sweet to offer, and since we've been getting along so well I decide I don't want to mess with that, when soon- hopefully, we'll be working together on a full time basis.

I lie back on the sofa, mentally exhausted and ready to pass out for an hour or so, when my mind comes jarring back to life.

"_No, Jack won't like those," Margo says, twirling the stem of the lily through her fingers. _

_My mom rolls her eyes. "Are you sure you're not saying that _you _don't like them?"_

"_Of course not," she replies curtly._

_We're at the florist, trying to make a decision that I never thought would be so hard. But before this, we were at the cake place, and the two have been bickering back and forth the whole time. I can't stand it anymore._

"_Neither of you are helping," I bite out, trying not to sound too sharp. "I brought both of you here today because I value your opinions and wanted you to be involved in the wedding, but if this is how it's going to be then I'll just have to figure out everything on my own, okay?"_

_They're both silenced and I settle on the lilies, knowing that Jack won't care what flowers we have anyway. _

"_I'm sorry," Margo says later when my mother is in the ladies room. _

_I accept her apology. "It's okay. You're just trying to help."_

"_For the record," she starts. "I'm happy for you and Jack. I think you two make a good couple."_

_Though she's never been outright mean to me, Margo has always had a bit of an attitude and this is the closest thing to a compliment I've ever received from her._

"_Me too."_

The fact that Margo has been pleasant to me at least once in my lifetime is comforting and leaves me hoping that it wasn't a fluke. If she raised Jack, who is the picture of politeness and grace, then she has to have _some _redeeming qualities.

I think about Miss Bee, wondering how many other times I went to see her. I can't imagine not going back there after she told me Jack was going to propose, knowing how I can't handle what's supposed to be a surprise if I know it's coming.

_It's a warm day and we're in Central Park once again. We both magically have the day off, so we're enjoying the early afternoon sun. On our way through, I kept my eye out for Miss Bee, hoping to find her so I could run off and ask her about that little _lie _she told me- the one about Jack proposing. _

_Not true. That was three weeks ago, and every time I've thought it was coming I've been wrong. Every time we're out to dinner or going somewhere special I try to prepare myself. _

_I didn't see her, so I can't exactly ask her why her so-called psychic abilities are crap._

"_You know, you've been acting kinda weird lately," Jack tells me, leaning back on his elbows and looking at me. _

"_Yeah?" I question. "Why's that?"_

_He shrugs. "I don't know. You're all… fidgety and stuff."_

"_Am not."_

_He sits up and lays his hand over mine. "I think I know what this is about," he says, then moves so he has access to his pocket, shoving his hand down and wriggling it._

_Oh God. Is he about to pull out a ring?_

"_And what's it about?" I ask as nonchalantly as I'm capable of. _

_His hand comes up to reveal his keys. _

"_Phew," he sighs. "Thought I'd dropped these."_

_I try not to look disappointed, but I could've sworn I was right that time. _

"_You and Lucy are fighting, aren't you?"_

_Well, that's true, but it honestly hasn't been bothering me _that _much. "Yeah," I agree but shake it off. "It's stupid."_

"_Can I ask you something?" he says some time later. _

"_Shoot."_

"_So I've been thinking about this for a long time…" he trails off. "And I've known you for a long time, so…"_

_This has to be it. It has to be. _

"_Yeah?"_

_He sits facing me, his free hand rubbing his hair like it always does when he's nervous. "Do you think I could pull off a beard?" he blurts out, his face splitting into a grin. "I mean, I just don't know if it would look good, you know?"_

"_No!" I tell him, even though I'm trying to recover from him not asking what I wanted him to. "I'll just shave it off in your sleep if you grow one," I laugh. _

_He laughs too. "Alright then, it's settled."_

_I lean back into his chest and rest my arms on his bent legs, relaxing even though I swear he's playing with my mind, like he somehow _knows _that I know. _

"_Have I told you you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Kate Austen?"_

_He presses a kiss to my neck and I laugh. "Not lately," I say, turning my head slightly to kiss him. "It's mutual," I tell him when we break apart. _

"_I really do know what this is about, you know," he whispers, trailing a finger absently over the bare skin of my arm._

_I shake my head. "That's doubtful, Jack," I say lightly._

"_No, I do," he insists. "You're just too cute and too easy to tease."_

_His hand disappears from my arm and he shifts behind me, then it returns, clenching a small box and holding it out in front of me._

"_Jack…"_

"_Marry me," he whispers, opening the box to reveal a sparkling diamond ring. It's perfect, and this moment is perfect, and private, and the most wonderful feeling I've had in my entire life._

"_You're serious?" I ask, just to be sure I'm not imagining this. _

"_Completely," he grins. "Marry me, Kate, make me the luckiest guy…"_

_I turn around in his arms and throw myself on him. He falls onto his back but holds onto me tight, grabbing my face and pulling me down to kiss him. I kiss him back, long and lovingly, passionate and so in love with this man. _

"_Of course I'll marry you," I say, a wide smile plastered on my face as I pepper him with kisses. _

_He sits up and I crawl off his lap, leaning my head on his shoulder as he takes the ring from the box._

"_Well, we need to make it official then," he says, holding out my hand and slipping the ring onto my finger. _

_It looks great, even feels great if that's somehow possible. I kiss him again, trying to wrap my head around the fact that I'm going to marry this man. _

_He pulls away and we both stare down at my hand. Jack smiles and kisses it. "Perfect fit."_

My eyes are open with shock when the memory ends. This is the most significant thing I've remembered, and something that I've wanted to know about for so long. In the past few days I've remembered so much.

I'm half way there. I wonder when I'll find the rest?


	28. Something Out of Nothing

This one's a set-up chapter, so I'm not expecting tons of reviews, but please, feel free to surprise me! :) If you have any ideas for this story, please let me know quickly, as there are only a few chapters left and I haven't decided exactly how many yet.

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Something Out of Nothing

The next morning I'm a ball of nerves when I wake, earlier than Jack for once. He wakes up too, probably feeling my relentless tossing and turning. Today's the day of the boards and even though I studied some more last night it didn't seem to stick, and I don't feel all that confident. I'm the type of person who freaks out easily- _obviously_- and this has never been a particularly useful trait in life, let alone the most important test of my career.

Last night when he got home, I told Jack about remembering his proposal. He was excited, and even though I think I'm on the cusp of gaining my memory back, I'm not getting my hopes up and it seems Jack isn't either. At this point I remember enough to be fairly comfortable with my life and the people around me, but it would be nice to have some of the gaps filled in, and not to have to go through things like studying for the boards all over again. Frankly, it's just annoying.

Jack rolls out of bed, pulling me out with him. Instead of his usual shower, I see him gather a t-shirt and some mesh shorts from the dresser.

"I still have some time before I need to get ready. I'm going for a run if you want to come. Might help you relax," he offers, tugging the shirt over his head and lacing up his Nikes.

Running isn't exactly my idea of fun, but he's right- it might take my mind off the test long enough for me to relax a little bit. I agree to go and he hands my shoes to me after I've changed.

After clipping a leash onto Eggo, who is beyond excited, we hit the pavement and settle into a comfortable rhythm, even though it's been far too long since I've had this much physical activity. I've been sitting on my ass for the past two months, cursing my life and willing my memory to come back instead. All along I've had plenty to be thankful for.

I manage to make it through a few miles, though I'm huffing and puffing toward the end and extremely grateful when we're back inside and I'm greedily drinking a glass of water. Jack's letting Eggo off his leash, laughing when he takes off running through the apartment in circles. How he still has that much energy, I don't know.

"Shower?" I ask him tentatively after I've finished my water. We seem to be back to normal, but I can't tell if it's because he doesn't want to upset me before the boards or if he has actually forgiven past-Kate's actions. Though I'm not sure which he means, thankfully he nods and strips off his shirt on the way down the hallway and turns on the shower, helping me tug off my clothes and step under the refreshing spray.

Grace and Lucy promised they'd take me out to breakfast beforehand, and they arrive at the apartment fifteen minutes after they said they would.

"Kate!" I hear, and it's Lucy screaming from the living room, where Jack has just tried to exchange pleasantries. "Come on! We've got a cab waiting and the meter's running!"

I grab my purse and walk to them while trying to pull on my other shoe. "I'll meet you guys outside, give me a minute?" I ask Lucy nicely, and shoot her a look that says I'd like a minute alone with my husband. She glares but shuts the door behind her.

"You'll do fine," Jack says, placing a finger over my mouth before I can disagree. "Don't freak out, okay?"

I try to nod but the truth is I'm really freaked out. How couldn't I be? _Shouldn't _I be? Woudn't I be some kind of ruthless, unemotional robot if I pretended today was just like any other day? Because it's not. It's important.

"What if I mess this up so badly they won't ever let me take it again?" There's a first time for everything.

Jack shakes his head, but can't bite back the smirk. "You've prepared for this, you'll do fine. You know your stuff, Dr. Austen," he grins, and now I realize why he hates it so much when I do the same to him. I've never thought of myself as having that title before.

I lean forward and kiss him, softly, appreciatively, smoothing my palms over the sides of his cheeks. "Thank you. You know, for helping me, and being there when I know I was really annoying and unthankful."

He shakes his head again. "Don't think anything of it, but you're welcome. We're supposed to be there for each other, and that's all it was." He pecks me on the lips again. "Call me when you're done, I want to hear everything."

I'm left with the feeling that I haven't done enough for Jack. He's done plenty for me- supported me, stood by me during this difficult time, taken the abuse I've handed out just because I can't handle a little memory loss- but what have I done in return? Yell at him? Blame him for things that are probably my fault?

"Snap out of it," Lucy tells me when I've gotten into the cab.

"Stop thinking for once in your life," Grace adds, that big smile on her face. "Because we all know that you're going to do great, and you'll be back at the clinic helping me out in no time!" Her tone is a little irritating because it seems fake, but that's just the way Grace speaks. She could be getting sucked up by a tornado and think of something positive to say, like, "Oh, look at the view!" while she's being tossed away to nowhere.

I make it through breakfast but can't promise that it won't come back up soon, and I begin feeling progressively more jittery as it drags on. I'm counting down the minutes until the test is supposed to start, until my imminent failure.

Half an hour later, after Grace and Lucy have dropped me off at the testing center, I'm seated at a desk, staring at the thick packet in front of me and tapping my pencil impatiently, waiting for the exam to begin. I know that I'm an odd case- I've participated in all of the schooling necessary, but I can't remember a lot of it. Normally I would be renewing my license, but when I spoke to contacts at the New York state board, they said I'd have to take them all over again and earn my license. I mean, I know it makes sense and it's the only safe thing to do, and the only way to save their own asses from being sued, but it still sucks, and I still wish it didn't have to be this way.

What feels like a week later, I emerge from the building, feeling like my brain has turned to mush. I cross the street but almost get run over, realizing half way across that the sign wasn't actually telling me to walk. Earlier, I declined Grace and Lucy's requests to come pick me up afterward, knowing that I'd want some time to myself and that I wouldn't be in any mood to sit in a cab for another half an hour.

"How'd it go?" Jack answers, seemingly out of breath.

"I don't know," I answer honestly. "Some parts were fine, others… weren't. I don't know."

"How long until you get the results?"

This is the kicker- apparently there's no fast way to determine whether someone is competent enough to be a vet. "Six to eight weeks," I sigh.

Jack chuckles at my impatience. "It was about the same for me. We'll make it through, promise."

"I know. It's just frustrating… all that build up and then I have to wait two months until anything comes of it."

My stomach rumbles and I feel a little faint, but I'm not sure if the latter is from hunger or the uneasiness that comes from taking a life-changing test.

"Can you grab a late lunch?" I ask him, knowing him well enough that he probably hasn't eaten.

He pauses for a moment. "Yeah, I could do that. I don't have another surgery today, just finishing up some paperwork."

I'm actually not too far from Jack's hospital, so twenty minutes later we're sitting across from each other at a small café. It's another nice, late-summer day in the city, so we sit outside on the brick patio.

I'm picking at the sandwich I ordered, not quite able to stomach it. "Grace said that I can come back as a tech until I get the results back, so at least I'll have something to do instead of sitting around the apartment all day."

Jack agrees, glancing down at his watch. I should've known he probably wouldn't be able to stay long. "That'll be a good way for you to get back into everything, kind of a warm up, I guess. Are you nervous about getting back into it?"

"A little," I admit. "I feel so far removed from it and I have no idea what it's going to be like working with Grace again, or how my co-workers are going to act around me," I say. "Another surprise," I add sarcastically. "Just what I need."

Jack's always been good at offering advice even when I don't ask for it, which is sometimes annoying but great when I'm too embarrassed to, like now. "To be honest, you never complained about your job much- sure, you complained sometimes, but it was always about little things, like the receptionist who always mixes up appointments, or Grace was getting on your nerves. Normal stuff. Don't worry about it unless you start working with those same people again and it doesn't feel right. And I don't think that's going to happen."

"Ahh, you always know the right thing to say, Dr. Shephard," I joke with him after I thank him for paying the bill, then grab his hand as we stroll back toward his office.

"Walk with me? You can take the car home and I'll just get a cab," he offers. Does he realize that I haven't driven since the accident that put me here in the first place?

He sees the reluctance in my eyes. "Think I'll pass. It's gonna be awhile until I start driving again."

Squeezing my hand, he replies, "Thought you might be ready, that's all."

Jack leads and I let him, as I try to forget about the previous part of my day. It isn't until we pass a bridge on the other side of town that I realize we're nowhere near his office. I slow down and he tugs on my hand so I'll keep walking.

"Where're we going? Jack?"

And of course, that ever-present smirk stretches across his face. "You'll see."

A few minutes later he stops in front of city hall, as if I could miss it, as if I could miss his plan. Still, it's worked. Instead of weighing down my mind with pointless worries, I'm beaming ear to ear.

"Jack," I start, the smile spreading to his face too. I'm starting to feel like it doesn't matter all that much if I never remember every part of our life in the past, because we've created this relationship from nothing, when we were supposed to have everything. And there's no hesitation- there's no reason I can conjure not to renew my vows to this man- I'd be crazy not to. And I'm done being crazy.

"Feel like getting married?"


	29. Move Along

Move Along

The room is nothing fancy, but nicer than I expected. The walls are painted a soft cream color, and in favor of the harsh fluorescent ceiling lights present in the rest of the building, it's lit by soft-glow bulbs in tall lamps and two large windows that let the bright daylight pour in.

A clerk took care of our request, granting us another license and showing us into the room where we'll renew our vows. A pleasant looking older gentleman is waiting for us behind a small desk. He works fervently until Jack clears his throat and introduces himself. He's a patient man with a calm demeanor, a man who looks like he's seen plenty in his years, like he might be able to predict whether or not a couple will survive in the long run.

For the first time, Jack appears a little nervous. I am, too, though I probably shouldn't be. I mean, we're already married- what's the big deal?

Well, I guess the big deal is that I can't remember the first time, so this might be it. This might be what I have to look back on when I'm old and gray- getting married in city hall.

"What do we have here?" the man asks quietly as he stands from his chair behind the desk.

"Renewing our vows," I pipe up, sharing a warm smile with him.

He nods and shuffles toward us, with stiff legs that look like they could use more frequent movement. "Better that than the few other options, now isn't it?" he laughs. He pauses, and then bunches his forehead into a scowl of disapproval. "Forgive me," he says, "I didn't introduce myself. I'm Leonard Shackleby, I'll be performing the ceremony. Now I know you're Jack," he says, pointing to Jack, who's standing beside me, "but I don't know this little lady."

Now normally I'm hardly a fan of endearing terminology; most of the time it makes me nauseous. But Leonard is a sweet old man and it warms me to think that a soul like him still lives in the hustle and bustle of this city.

"Kate," I tell him, letting him clasp my hand in a brief but surprisingly firm handshake.

He walks back to his desk and sits down, writing a few notes on a sheet of paper and looking over the documents we've handed him. I see Jack biting his lip, attempting to hold back his laughter as he watches the old man struggle with the computer in front of him, slowly, methodically clicking the mouse and using his pointer finger to type.

"Damn thing's temperamental," he laughs. "But these aren't the old days, I suppose." He sighs, having finally gotten the machine straightened out and the paperwork to his liking. He shuffles back up from the hard wooden chair. "Got nothing to complain about now though," he starts, "I get to see people on one of the happiest days of their lives."

"What was it that you did before?" Jack asks him. He's a natural conversationalist, something I'm jealous of. I wish I could seem so at ease with others.

Leonard paces between us. "Had no idea I was such a fascinating guy," he says. "I was a bar man. Mostly saw people angry at the world, if you know what I mean."

I instantly know why this man had such an impact on me from the moment we walked into this room. "Leo?" I ask him. "As in Leo's, the bar?"

Leonard is surprised, he raises his eyebrows and a small smile settles on his face. "You know it?"

Jack snorts in disbelief. I imagine I took him there many times while we were dating. We're in a city of millions and we run into the same man who owns my favorite college hangout? "I practically lived there," I tell him. "Best bar in the city."

None of this should shock me- my life since the accident has been one giant coincidence; all I've been doing since I woke up is confronting my past. And Leo's was certainly part of it.

"I'm putting it up for sale, you know," Leonard says. "Old man like me can't handle it anymore, and my son doesn't want to take over," he tells us rather nonchalantly, and before I can get in a word, he says, "Okay then, let's do this, shall we?"

Jack and I grin nervously, impatiently, at each other, and I begin to wonder if this- renewing our vows- will really make either of us feel any differently. He already knows I love him, though I probably don't tell him enough, and I know he loves me- so what exactly is another piece of paper supposed to make us feel?

"How long have you been married?" he asks politely as he motions for Jack and me to stand across from each other, Leonard standing between us.

Thrown off guard, Jack hesitates, and then recovers. "Four years," he says, "give or take."

I laugh on the inside, knowing exactly what he means- I was only in a coma for about a week, but, in the beginning, we certainly lost more of our marriage than those eight days. Waking up and realizing that your husband is a complete stranger will do that to any couple.

The old man chuckles, surely sensing some sort of obstacles in our relationship. "Every marriage has its complications."

The ceremony is shorter than I had imagined. It seems that every wedding I begrudgingly went to as a child was unnecessarily dragged out and frilled up, with waving of incense, breaks for cheesy musical numbers from the groom, and any other thing the bride just had to have in order for her day to be perfect. I don't know every detail of our first wedding, but I have a feeling it was pretty simple- special but to the point. That's Jack and I.

I've been staring into Jack's eyes the entire time- they're lighter somehow, less serious and hard than they've been lately, with all the shit that I've put him through. I want to believe that he's happy, and selfishly, I want to believe that I've had something to do with it. And before we know it, we're saying "I do" and Leonard flashes us a smile, giving Jack a nod.

"You may kiss your bride."

It doesn't even bother me that Leonard is watching us curiously, happily, standing with a grin on his face and his hands pressed together in front of his chest. I hope, for his sake, that he has someone to go home to.

I lean forward to accept Jack's kiss. It's tender, sensual, expectant, and I kiss him back. _Finally_, it's saying. We're a mesh of lips brushing against each other, completed by a final lock, firm and lasting. I can only hope that our future mirrors it.

Leonard congratulates us, setting a hand on each of mine and Jack's shoulders. "May it last," he tells us simply, handing us our documents and ushering us into the hallway.

Jack squeezes my hand tightly as we walk back outside. "So was it worth it?" he asks, the bright sunlight forcing his eyes into a squint. "Was it everything you imagined?" He's a little sarcastic, what, with that old man who owns a bar marrying us, Jack in his work clothes and me in jeans and a casual top, in a small room in city hall- not exactly every girl's dream wedding.

"Yes." I lean up and kiss him. "Thanks for going along with it. It really did mean a lot to me," I tell him as sincerely as possible, because I know very well that he could've written me off a long time ago. He could've gotten out of it if he wanted to. Technically, renewing vows doesn't change anything.

He grips my face in his hands gently and gives me that famous half-smile. "Me too, Mrs. Shephard."

"Testing it out again?" I tease, wrapping my arm around his waist and leaning my head against his shoulder as we fall into a comfortable stride. "That's Dr. Shephard to you, Dr. Shephard," I tell him, joking. It's weird but true.

"Hopefully. Guess we'll find out in six to eight weeks." He says this with a straight face, until I jab him in the ribs and his face cracks into a grin.

"Jack!"

He holds his hands up in defense. "Hey, hey. I was kidding. Of course you'll pass," he says, this time sincerely.

"You better say that," I threaten.

"Well, I helped you study after all. How couldn't you pass?" He loves pissing me off like this, working me up and joking with me, seeing me throw a fit. Thankfully I know he's kidding, and he's probably right, too.

I let out a bark of laughter. "So does that mean if I don't pass I can blame it on you?"

He hadn't thought that far, I'm sure, but nods begrudgingly. "Fine," he smirks, "but you won't."

"So where to now, husband?"

I have to say that I'm quite a fan of this light-hearted conversation we've got going on, especially when comparing it to all of the fights we've been in lately. It feels good, and I'm glad it's two-sided.

"I believe we have a honeymoon to get to, don't we?" He glances at his watch and doesn't meet my confused stare. "We still have some time, we could start celebrating early…" He wags his eyebrows up and down in a cheesy manner.

"What- a honeymoon? How, I mean-?"

How could he have had the time to plan this? I thought renewing our vows was a spur of the moment type of thing, not something he'd been construing for some time. _I'm _the one who called him and asked him to go to lunch, _I'm _the one who got all of this started…

"Two weeks," he boasts, "in the Bahamas- a resort, everything paid for, just you and me." It's like he's picturing it in his head, and I am too.

I'm grateful that this is happening, that we'll finally get a change of location and some uninterrupted time together, but the first thing I can think to ask is, "How the hell did you get two whole weeks cleared at work?"

"Lucky for you vacation weeks roll over from year to year, and I'm not exactly known for taking them," he says bashfully. "We could stay there six weeks if you wanted."

I smile at him. "Two weeks sounds perfect. What time's the flight? And how'd you manage to hide all this from me?"

We're nearing the apartment, and I can't help but wonder if he's got something else up his sleeve. "Not 'til 8. We're flying into Miami, staying the night and then we have a flight out first thing in the morning."

He stops to check the mail in the lobby. "And Lucy, believe it or not, helped me plan this all, told me where you'd want to go, how long we should stay. She pretty much steered the ship," he laughs, and I have no problem believing this, since Lucy is somewhat of a control freak. "She even packed for you."

Knowing Lucy all she's packed me is a few bikinis and some lingerie.

He's pulling me up the steps by my hand, for some reason in a hurry. "Jack," I huff, "it's only 4:30, we still have awhile."

Silent until he unlocks door, unsuccessfully fending off Eggo, he pulls me to his chest. "Not for what I have in mind," he smirks.

Next thing I know, he has me on my back in the middle of our bed, his hands on the button of my jeans, pulling them down easily. He lies on top of me and his fingers find their way into my panties as he plants kisses on my neck, my mouth, my chest. I let out a moan, decompressing after all of the recent events, accepting his touch.


	30. Stranger Things Have Happened

Please, please, **please **let me know what you think of the end of this one, good or bad. I've been planning it since the beginning, but I'm still nervous about it. I don't want it to seem unrealistic, if you know what I mean. Things will be explained more in the next (and last) chapter.

* * *

Stranger Things Have Happened

Seven weeks end up flying by. Working at the clinic, remembering my entire work history, and the honeymoon has made time pass rather quickly. It came to me suddenly, while I was taking Eggo for a walk about three weeks ago. My memories had never compartmentalized like that before- I didn't remember my entire wedding just because I recalled planning it with my mother and Margo, but this time it all came rushing back in entirety, or what I can only imagine is the entirety. I can remember everything- taking the boards the first time, studying with Grace, the day we bought the clinic from the old owners, fresh out of school- with no money, a good loan, and a lot of hope.

And Grace- am I saying this?- thank God for her, because she's pretty much left me to myself, only stepping in when completely necessary and has let me get back into the swing of things professionally, which has provided more comfort than I ever would've thought. Turns out I'm a pretty good veterinarian, even if I haven't received the board results back yet and don't know if pre-memory-gained Kate was good enough to get a license.

It started a little rough, working at the clinic, with scared animals and scared Kate, but I eventually worked out all of the kinks. Jack has even started to meet me for lunch every day that he can, if his surgeries don't run into it.

But still, no matter my memories, I'm no veterinarian until that piece of paper comes in the mail saying I am. Otherwise, I'm completely breaking the law and endangering myself, everything that I've worked for and hoped for since the accident. I'm finally getting my life back, and from what I can remember, everything seems remarkably similar. And I don't think that's a bad thing- my life is good.

I leave the clinic early today for my appointment with Dr. Russom, who I might as well call Dr. Kevorkian, since I practically want to die every time I visit. There are only so many times you can hear that you can't have children before it starts to seep into all your thoughts, all your actions. I think about it all the time.

Since I'm close, I stop at the apartment to check the mail and let Eggo out for a bathroom break. Maybe, just _maybe, _today will be the day that the letter is there, waiting for me to open it and tell me my future. I nervously step into the lobby and run up the flight of stairs to our awaiting apartment. I greet Eggo and make a dash for the little gold key to the mailbox, grab Eggo's leash and clip him onto it. We're back out the door in less than 30 seconds. He gladly runs after me and down the steps, failing to stop when I do at the row of mailboxes.

I mean, it's been s_even _weeks. They told me to expect the results between six and eight. If it's not there today, I won't have to wait more than a week, will I? I don't know how much longer I can stand it, or how much longer Jack can stand it. I'm sure I've been driving him nuts; he's told me as much a couple of times. With a minute jiggle, the door pops open and reveals a vertical stack of white envelopes. One's oversized, and the others look like bills.

That's it.

New York State Boards, it reads, with a PO Box and 'confidential' stamp printed onto it. Now that it's here, I'm not sure that I want to open it. What if I end up having to take it again, and waiting another painful six to eight weeks? What if I fail it _again_, even though I can remember all of my schooling now? What would _that _say?

With shaky hands I tear open the envelope sloppily, in a hurry to pull out the papers inside. The package is thin. That can't be good- it doesn't take much paper to tell someone 'better luck next time'.

_Thank you for participating in the state boards on August 27__th__, _blah, blah, blah…_ Your results have indicated that the state should… GRANT YOU YOUR LICENSE TO PRACTICE IN THE STATE OF NEW YORK._

I let out a shriek that seems to scare Eggo. The only person I want to tell is Jack. I fucking did it!

"I passed!" I yell when he picks up, skipping any sort of formal greeting or measure of politeness. "I got my license back!"

He must be congratulating me, but I'm babbling on and on how I can't believe it, how my life is turning back to normal. I calm down a little bit and manage to avoid the stares of our upstairs neighbors, who already think I'm strange enough after I walked into their apartment by mistake once, right after the accident when I was pretty confused about everything.

"See?" he says. "This oughta be reassuring, since you were sure that you couldn't pass because you hadn't gotten those memories back yet. Guess that can't be your excuse anymore," he laughs.

He's right. Even if I hadn't miraculously gotten my work history back, I still set my career on the path back to normal. I managed to pass a tough set of tests when it was probable that I wouldn't, and I'm proud of that.

Jack says this too. "I'm proud of you," he says, sincerely, before we're about to hang up. "I'll take you out tonight to celebrate. You want to?"

"Of course," I tell him. As much as I love just hanging out at the apartment, part of me loves being wined and dined by my husband, too. And this is certainly a special occasion. "I have an appointment with Dr. Rossom in a bit, so I'll probably need some cheering up," I try to joke, even though I'm dreading going. Getting this good news can only help.

"You never know," he says. "I've seen my share of miracles while I've practiced."

I appreciate his effort to make me feel better, but I've started to accept that having children isn't in the cards for me. As much as it sucks, there are other ways, and I know that Jack and I are capable of loving a child, even if it isn't _technically _ours. Plus, aren't there are surplus of kids in this world who need a good home and parents who love them? I'm sure we can provide that with no problem. It's one of the only bright spots.

"I think I've just about run out of miracles."

"Kate, I've seen you ice skate. Well, sort of. That, in itself is one of the most miraculous things I've ever witnessed- you standing on two feet, on ice."

He manages to make me laugh, thank God. "We should try that again," I say. "I don't remember the last time."

"Be glad. Hey, listen, I've gotta go, I have a short surgery in about an hour and I wanna look over some notes beforehand, but I'll see you at home."

"K," I nod into the phone.

"And Kate? I really am proud of you."

"Me too."

I hang up, hail a cab to Dr. Rossom's office, then call my mom, excited to tell her the good news and eager to keep my mind off of the impending doom that is a visit to the gynecologist's office. Next comes Lucy, and finally Grace, who rushed out of an appointment to take the call. I get my ear screamed off for a solid five minutes but hang up laughing, with plans to go to dinner with my mom and Rob, and to go out for drinks with Lucy and Grace the next night.

In what seems like too short of a ride, the cab driver slows down and lets me know we're here. I take my time paying him and get out of the car, gathering myself and taking a few deep breaths of fresh early fall air before I walk into the stuffy, invasive office.

I sign in and tap my foot impatiently, flipping through a magazine without really reading it, looking at all of the advertisements to distract myself. I get bored with this and glance around the room, noticing all the diagrams and replicas of the female uterus and reproductive system. I look at the fallopian tubes, such tiny things, but so greatly important. Why do mine have to be so fucked up? Why do I have to have this glitch? I'm making a conscious effort not to feel sorry for myself, but seriously, after everything else, why did this have to go wrong too?

A nurse finally calls me back and does all of the normal tests, asks all the normal questions and I tell her I've been feeling the same since my last visit- all the good that does me. I'm left alone to dress in the flimsy paper gown, fiddling my thumbs until Dr. Rossom comes in. I've always her. She's not the problem- the reasons why I have to see her so frequently are what I don't like.

We chitchat like always, and I tell her about my recent surge of memories, about passing the boards and being thankful to be heading back to work. She smiles when I tell her Jack and I renewed our vows and how he took me on a surprise honeymoon.

"Seems like things are looking up, huh?"

"Guess you could say that. But before I forget, I wanted to ask you what my other options are. For conceiving." I'm almost embarrassed to ask. She must think I'm crazy for even thinking about having a baby with Jack anytime soon. She, like most other people, probably thinks I'm a basket case. Luckily I've learned to deal with that.

"There are a variety of things," she tells me in a clinical tone, showing no indication that she believes I'm crazy. She opens the cupboard and sorts through some pamphlets. The top reads 'Trying to Conceive?'

How convenient.

"We're not really… thinking about it right now, but I want to know what's available, what's realistic."

"Sure," she says. "It's natural for a woman to be curious about these things, especially after she's been told that conceiving naturally is not a very probable option."

I've done a bit of research myself, and this pamphlet lists everything that I'd discovered. That's what I was afraid of. There doesn't seem to a way to do this that isn't extremely risky or extremely unproven. We go over the list and I nod along, pretending like I'll actually consider any of these things. I'd prefer not to be a medical guinea pig, thank you very much.

"If you don't have any more questions, let's get along to the exam, yes?"

I nod and put my feet in the stirrups, staring at the ceiling. First she presses on my abdomen. "Have you been feeling any different lately?"

"No, not really. Happier than normal, but I'm guessing that's not what you mean," I laugh.

"Well, you have reason to be," she says. She looks at my chart. "So no more cramping, your periods are on time, lasting the normal amount of time?"

"Yeah, I guess. I haven't paid much attention, but I haven't noticed anything weird either."

"That's good," she tells me. "Considering everything that you've been through in the past few months I'm impressed that your cycle has been so normal."

She goes on with the exam, quieter than normal, until I start to think something is wrong. I notice that her brow is furrowed and the exam is taking longer than the other times. "What's wrong?"

Immediately she relaxes her brow. "Oh, nothing. Let's look at your ultrasound from last time and your hormone levels."

She takes a film from my chart and shows me the ultrasound of my fallopian tubes. She explains where the blockage is on one side and shows me the damage on the other.

"We're going to take another one today, and I want to get a picture of the surrounding areas as well," she explains.

It isn't pleasant, but it's something that has to be done. When she's found the correct area she takes a screenshot of sorts and asks a technician to draw my blood. Afterward I start to gather my clothes. Thank God that's over and done with.

"Go ahead and get dressed, but I want you to wait here, Kate," Dr. Rossom says with a reassuring smile. "I want to get a read on your hormone levels before you go, see if anything's changed. I'll let you get dressed and I'll come back in a few minutes. It's a quick job for the lab, so I won't be long."

Although it's only been fifteen minutes, it feels like eternity. I look through the 'What's Normal?' book of vaginas and find out that pretty much everything is. She finally comes in, clipboard in hand, shaking her head.

"So what's up? How are my hormones behaving?" Judging by my life in the past few weeks, I can't imagine that they're behaving well.

She restrains the half-smile on her face, eyes darting through the text on the fresh white sheet of paper, and then shakes her head again.

"I thought my imagination got the best of me, but I'd have to say they're acting pretty pregnant."


	31. Reasoning

15 reviews gets you an epilogue, which I'd actually love to post. :) But if this is it, thanks for all the reviews and kind words. I'm a little sad that this story is over! Also, feel free to shoot me some new story ideas. I don't have any!

* * *

Reasoning

I can't be pregnant. That's, well, _impossible. _

"Kate?" Dr. Rossom asks, directing my attention back to her. "Are you alright?"

Alright? I'm not sure. How is this even happening?

"I know this must be quite a shock for you, and it is for me too, but do you have any questions for me?" She's calm and relaxed, sitting with her hands folded across her lap. I'm staring at the cupboards in front of me.

"How- how?"

She laughs at my disbelief. "Although conceiving naturally was improbable, Kate, it was never impossible. The amount of blockage in your other fallopian tube probably wasn't as severe as it looked on the sonograms, and since we'll be doing frequent testing throughout your pregnancy to ensure the safety of the fetus, we'll probably be able to diagnose you a bit better. But the only explanation for you conceiving is that some of your eggs managed to pass about halfway through the fallopian tube, where one was fertilized. And that's your baby."

I always thought my first reaction to being pregnant would be absolute joy. So why am I wishing this wasn't true? I am not ready for this. Jack and I aren't ready to have a baby.

"So I take it that you weren't trying?"

"No, but we weren't doing anything to prevent it, either. This can't be happening," I tell her. "I mean, I don't even have all of my memory back, and I'm pregnant when it seemed impossible, and I literally _just _got my career back, and we're not ready, I'm not ready. I'm too much of a mess to have a baby right now-"

"You and Jack are loving, responsible people, and I'm sure you'll handle this with grace. You're just a little surprised right now, and it's going to take some time to get used to the idea. Soon you'll be as thrilled about this as I am," she says gently. "Relax and take it all in."

Yeah, you try relaxing if you've been told there's less than a five percent chance you can conceive, Dr. Rossom. You try relaxing when you've just gotten your life together and now there's going to be one giant upheaval. You try relaxing when you know your husband wants this more than anything and you're not sure why you can't quite catch up to his enthusiasm.

I don't have much to say, and let Dr. Rossom dictate the conversation while I stew in my thoughts. Why aren't I thrilled about this? I guess I don't feel prepared, or far enough into my relationship with Jack to even consider getting pregnant. I _want _this, but now?

"I've only seen this a few times in all my years of practice, but it's a real treat," she smiles.

She runs the wand over my belly, taking another ultrasound. She has to point out where the baby actually is, because it's still rather tiny and I'm not accustomed to reading the screen.

"How far am I?" It couldn't possibly be more than a few months- I hope to God that I would be able to tell if I was seriously pregnant.

"When did you say you were on your honeymoon? September?"

"Yeah. Two weeks at the beginning of September."

Dr. Rossom arches her eyebrows. "Looks like you've got yourself a honeymoon baby," she teases me. "Maybe the trick for you was quantity, not quality."

I blush. There _was _quite a bit of quantity going on during those two weeks. It's not my fault that Jack probably got the most expensive, secluded villa in the whole country with a private beach access. We rarely came in contact with other people, just each other. I decide not to tell her about the quality, though. I don't want other people imagining Jack and I in bed, thank you very much.

"You're almost two months, so it's not a huge surprise that you hadn't realized it yet. And I'm guessing since you've been kind of busy you haven't noticed any changes."

I'm always emotional, and hardly know what's normal for me to begin with. How would I notice any changes?

"Yeah, I guess. I haven't felt any different, other than being happier than normal. I always thought pregnant women got all teary and stuff," I admit.

"It all depends," she says, pulling a syringe from a drawer and unwrapping it. "Maybe you'll be lucky and that'll be the case the whole way through. This'll sting."

She asks me about my last period and then gathers the vial of blood. "Sit tight. I'm going to run this to the lab and when I come back we'll figure out your due date."

I have no idea how or when I'm going to tell Jack. I suppose I'll just spit it out ungracefully, like I always do with any news of importance. It's not that I'm worried about his reaction- I know he's going to be over the moon, but I _am_ worried about what comes next, and how it will change our relationship. How will I ever be a good mother when I don't even have myself completely together? All I can do is hope that the last half of those memories come back to me at some point throughout the pregnancy.

Dr. Rossom knocks lightly on the door to the exam room and then enters. "I want to go over some general guidelines with you since this is your first pregnancy and you're also a higher risk pregnancy."

I agree, but then wonder if that was such a good idea when I see the stack of papers she sets forward. I'm told what to eat, drink, what I can and cannot do, how often I have to come in for check-ups, what to expect, symptoms, everything I could possibly think of.

"Oh," she says after she's gone through the exhaustive list, "I almost forgot to tell you your due date. Any guesses?"

Math has never been a strong suit of mine, but I try to calculate nine months from September.

"June?" I guess.

She nods, handing me a bag full of the literature. "June 6th."

The day I woke up from my coma.

* * *

Jack called me a few times while I was at Dr. Rossom's, probably wondering why I wasn't home yet. My appointment took well over an hour, I realize when I glance down at my watch, and he must be home by now. I walk home in favor of a cab, even though it's late October and the weather has now grown chilly. I need this time to figure out what the hell to tell Jack and to think about the irony of my expected due date.

I don't get much thinking done, and somehow I arrive home without really knowing how I got there. Jack is standing in the kitchen with the newspaper spread over the island when I walk in. He comes over and plants a kiss on my lips, pulling my jacket from my shoulders and hanging it in the closet.

"Congratulations," he whispers, hugging me tight. "I knew you'd pass."

Since getting the news that I'm pregnant I'd completely forgotten about my previous good news and excitement. Now I feel kind of numb.

With as much gusto as I can manage, I smile at him and mutter a "Yeah, thanks."

"Did the appointment last a long time?" he asks, frowning, surely catching on that something's up.

"Umm, yeah."

He sees the bag in my hand. "Everything okay?"

"Umm, yeah. I guess."

He notices my blank stare and leads me over to the living room. "Hey," he says softly. "What's going on?"

I sit with my head down, staring at my knees for a little bit, until I realize that he's about to be the happiest man in the city, and _I'm _going to be the reason why. So why can't I be happy about it too? All I've done is take from him, expect things from him, and it's made me feel guilty for a long time. Finally I can give him something that I know he wants so badly, but all I can seem to think about is how inconvenient the timing is, when I should be thanking God that I got pregnant in the first place. So I decide to be happy about this baby and that it's okay to have some doubts. I have seven months to get used to it.

"What did Dr. Rossom say? Are you okay?"

He's genuinely concerned. I need to put the poor guy out of his misery.

"Yeah, that's the thing. Apparently I am okay. She said- well, she said that I'm pregnant."

He leans away from me and to the back of the couch, but says nothing.

"I don't know how it happened either, Jack, I really don't. I mean, I _know _how it happened, but I don't know why, or how it's even possible, or why it had to happen right now."

His silence mirrors my reaction when Dr. Rossom told me. Flabbergasted doesn't even cover it.

"I'm two months along. It happened in the Bahamas."

He raises his eyebrows. "Oh. I just, oh."

I tell him how Dr. Rossom explained that one of my fallopian tubes most likely wasn't as damaged as previously thought, but that everything else seems normal.

"Are you- wait, are you even _happy _about this?" His reaction hasn't been much of one. It certainly wasn't what I imagined or expected.

He leans forward again, the first hint of a smile appearing on his face. "Of course," he starts. "I'm just so surprised. I never thought this could happen for us, and we weren't even trying…"

"We weren't really not trying either," I remind him with a smile. "And we had nothing but time on our hands…"

He smirks. "God, a baby… Are _you_ happy about this?"

Though I'm about to start a long, rambling speech on how I'm not sure what to think, or how to feel, and that it's going to take a little bit of time before I'm as ecstatic as he is, instead I find myself nodding, my smile slowly growing to match the wide stretch of his. I guess I really am happy about this. I guess I just needed to see how Jack felt. He picks me up and twirls me around, pressing his lips against mine. Suddenly I'm not sure whether the tears I feel against my mouth are mine or his.

When we pull apart he wipes away the tears from my cheeks and I do the same to his. His eyes are red and watery and the smile is permanently plastered on his face.

"I know the timing isn't exactly great-"

Jack puts his finger over my lips. "There's no bad time for this."

"I'm only two months, and Dr. Rossom said that this is a high risk pregnancy because of my other problems-"

He shakes his head. "You really think that after all this something is going to go wrong? I think this happened for a reason…"

Jack's confession is a bit shocking. Since I've known him, he's never been the type of person to chalk things up to fate- there's always been a concrete reason or fact.

"When are you due?"

I'm wondering if Jack will immediately remember the significance of June 6th- it's been awhile, and a lot has happened since…

"June 6th," he mutters after I've told him, still not able to wipe the smile from his face. "You know, only a really tiny percentage of women actually give birth on their given due date-"

Apparently he didn't remember. He's a world-class surgeon, one of the smartest people I know, but sometimes he's just such a man. "Jack," I interrupt, "did you even hear what I said? June 6th, June 6th, June 6th!" I rant.

Having this baby is inevitable. I might as well stop worrying about it so much. I can't control my memories, and should be thankful that I've remembered so much. And really, what's actually missing from my life that a few chopped up memories would bring back? Nothing that I can think of. Life is good.

His eyebrows furrow together. "Oh. _Oh,_" he says for the second time tonight, before grinning even wider, if possible, and pulling me onto his lap. He kisses my neck and rests his chin on my shoulder. "God, Kate," he whispers. "What a way to celebrate the anniversary…"

"You think that happened for a reason too?" I ask him lightly, glad for the change of emotion, at my quick change of heart.

"Doesn't everything?"


	32. Birthday Boy

My apologies for how long this has taken! Hope you enjoy, and thanks so much for sticking with this story for so long. Your comments have been really great.

* * *

Birthday Boy

"Alright, hand the birthday boy over," I tell Lucy, who magically, despite her reluctance to care about anyone but herself at times, is amazing with babies. She can't handle a harmless puppy, but feels comfortable around a slobbery, fussy, little baby who is completely dependent on other people? I'll never understand her.

It's Will's first birthday, and I can't believe how fast the first year of his life has passed. I never imagined that I'd be good at this whole mothering thing, but turns out I am. That maternal instinct thing? Yeah, that's real.

Will just started walking last week, so I know he's probably not thrilled about being passed around the living room from friend to friend, to his grandmothers, everyone making faces and using their baby voices. I know they're only trying to make him laugh, or do something that impresses them, but it kind of annoys me at times. Look at me, getting territorial over my child.

Lucy finally hands Will to me, and I admire his birthday outfit that my mom and I went shopping for. He smiles and gurgles at me, yet to have spoken his first word. I'd like to think that it will be 'mama' but Jack informed me ever so smugly that 'dada' is easier for babies to say, so he'll probably get that honor.

It's only a minute or two before he starts kicking, so I let him down, watching him teeter until he finds his footing, then runs across the room in his cute little sneakers to investigate the cupcakes. Jack's in the kitchen talking with his mom, keeping an eye on Will as he circles the kitchen table, leaving him be until Will gives a yank on the table cloth.

Jack picks him up, prying the table cloth from his hand. "What're you doing, silly little boy?" he asks him, laughing as Will tries to crawl out of his arms. "We should ask your mom if you can have a cupcake."

Not that I ever doubted it, but Jack has turned out to be a wonderful father. Though he has a rough work schedule, he's almost always home by dinner, spending his evenings with Will and I, helping me in any way he can, getting up in the middle of the night even though he goes to work at an insanely early hour.

"It's fine," I tell Jack before he can ask, as he walks over to where I'm standing, leading Will by the hand. It's funny to watch a man of Jack's stature and build with this tiny person, Will's little palm and fingers dwarfed by Jack's. "You don't have to ask, you know."

He smirks. "Don't want him on a sugar high. That won't be a fun crash," he says, rolling his eyes, and I know we're both trying not to think of the cream stick incident.

I grab one of the cupcakes off of the table, bring it over and take the candle out, because God knows how children like to eat things they aren't meant to. We've found that out the tough way, once with a balloon and the other time a crayon, both of which would've involved trips to the emergency room if Jack wasn't a doctor.

"Oh!" my mom says with delight, noticing the cupcake action and grabbing her camera. She likes to take 75 pictures of Will with the exact same expression on his face and insists on getting prints of every single one of them. Jack and I thankfully got over that habit quickly. "You have to sing!"

Jack lights the candles and brings over the tray of cupcakes, and a pretty terrible rendition of 'Happy Birthday' starts. Will doesn't care at all, since he's too distracted by the cupcake I'm holding in front of his face. He grabs it, and like any other baby, tries to stuff the whole thing in his mouth, streaking blue frosting all over his face.

My mom takes some pictures of just the three of us, and before I can even clean the frosting off of my son's face, he's being passed around again.

Suddenly Jack's arms are wrapped around my stomach from behind. "Two years, can you believe it?" he says against my ear as we both watch Grace dance for Will. He doesn't seem to be that amused.

I thought of that yesterday, but I've been running around so much today trying to prepare for Will's party that it kind of slipped by me. Two whole years since I woke up from the coma, with no idea what kind of life I was getting myself into. One year since Will, the little miracle baby, was born.

The chances of me ever getting pregnant were less than five percent, so of course I did, and the chances of me ever being in a coma and forgetting four years of my life _had _to be less than five percent, so of course that had to happen too. And the likelihood of me actually delivering on my due date was pretty slim too, so naturally that's when Will chose to come into this world…

I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck, leaning in to steal a quick kiss, not that anyone's paying much attention to us anyway. And I'm just wondering… when I woke up from the coma, why couldn't I have already had a cute little baby to distract people from nagging me about my memory loss?

While this year has been amazing—having Will, Jack and I learning how to be parents, all the joy it has brought us—it has put some strain on our relationship. It's a struggle trying to balance the two most important people in my life, and no matter what I do, I almost always end up feeling selfish.

"Come on," Jack says, tugging me by the arm, through the crowd of people packed into our living room. "We'll be right back," he tells Lucy, "we have another present to get ready for Will."

"Jack, all his presents are wrapped—"

"Shh," he whispers, holding a finger up to my lips, closing the bedroom door behind us. "We have a room full of free babysitters out there, what are we gonna do about it?"

"They'll notice we're gone—"

"No they won't," he says, smiling impishly. "In case you haven't noticed, this day isn't about us, and while we adore our son, he sometimes leaves us exhausted and immensely short on time for each other…"

He backs me against the door and kisses me, and while I love this version of Jack, I believe we've already been caught in a similar situation by my mother one night when she and Rob came over for dinner. He nips at my lips then pushes his tongue into my mouth, and suddenly whatever I was prepared to fight with him about has disappeared.

Our hands wander, and he strips off my shirt, his mouth trailing downward…

"We have to be careful," I warn him before things get too out of hand, pulling his lips from my chest and unbuttoning his shirt. "We don't want another baby right now…"

He smiles and pulls the polo shirt over his head. "Optimistic, are we?" he smirks.

Will's birth was planned as a c-section, since Dr. Rossom explained to me that there was a chance the surgeon could fix some of the damage in my fallopian tubes while I was already opened up. Our initial opinion was that it was jumping the gun a little bit, or maybe we were hoping for too much since having Will was having one more baby than we ever thought we'd have. But then we decided to go for it, since we really had nothing to lose, and the only thing to gain was the possibility of having more children in the future. And it worked.

I had something called a salpingostomy, where they opened the end of the fallopian tube, got rid of as much scar tissue as they could and sutured the end open, so there's a greater chance of an egg passing through. Now I have about a 40% chance of getting pregnant again, and with my luck, I don't think there's any way possible that I won't.

"What, you don't want another one of these running around?" he asks, attaching his lips back to my neck.

I know that Jack wants another baby and would never rush me, but I'm starting to lose my breath and my train of thought. "Give it a year or two…"

* * *

"Hey! Kate! Will can't wait to open his presents. He's tearing the paper off as I speak!" Rob yells. "Are you coming?"

_Yes!_ I want to yell from behind the door, just after Jack and I have finished. "We'll be right out!" I yell as politely as possible, as Jack starts to chuckle against my collarbone.

"Just in time…" he mutters and hands my jeans back to me. "I'll go out first, it'll look less suspicious that way," he laughs, pressing a quick kiss against my lips.

"Take the camera!" I yell after him.

I straighten my clothes and run a brush through my hair, unable to wipe the smirk from my face. There's something about the possibility of being caught that makes sex so much more exciting. Well, that, and the fact that having a baby around the house sometimes makes our chances rather infrequent.

No one suspects a thing by the time I walk out, as I watch a swarm of guests with their digital cameras, the bright screens all pointed at Will. Jack's sitting behind him, handing the presents forward and watching as our little boy tears at the paper clumsily, probably not realizing that he's opening toys, but thrilled with the idea of destroying something.

I watch Margo with Will, her demeanor softening noticeably whenever she's around him. It's a nice change, and while I may exaggerate her personality at times, it was a relief to see that she's not actually made of ice.

"I've gotta run," Lucy says, squeezing my arm. "I'm sorry," she apologizes, running over and kissing Will on the cheek. "But I have to check in at the bar—I just hired that Ron guy and I have to make sure he hasn't burned the place down or something."

I nod, somewhat disappointed that one of Will's favorite people has to cut out early, but extremely thankful that Lucy's been so loyal to Leo's. Jack bought the bar after we renewed our vows, when 'the' Leo explained to us that no one in his family could take over the business. I couldn't stop thinking about it, and how wrong it would be if one of the best bars in the city were to be put into the wrong hands. So he bought it as a surprise, and I eventually chose Lucy to run it when Jack and I figured out that we couldn't quite handle it ourselves.

Lucy's always been quite good at barking orders, and she's been fantastic at getting the bar up and running and managing to attract some new customers. She's much better than I am at negotiating with vendors and being firm yet somehow nice with the staff. Plus, she can take all the wisecracks from the men at the bar. That's right up her alley.

Will, with the aid of Jack, opens a fire truck and way too many other toys that make lots of noise, and sits contently on the ground, surrounded by his new loot and Lily, our upstairs neighbors' daughter. Eggo sniffs through the paper and licks the remaining frosting off of Will's face…

"How's work going?" my mom asks me, suddenly appearing by my side.

"I've been back for two months—it's fine," I smile, because it is going fine, but I've been feeling guilty about spending weekdays away from Will. It was Jack who pushed me to go back to work when I was still feeling unsure—we were both raised by parents who worked and we turned out alright, he said.

She touches my arm, both of us watching Will play with his new toys. "It'll get easier, promise. Now why don't you go be with your family. I'll work on cleaning up."

I shoot her an appreciative glance. With all the stress of the party I've actually spent very little time with my son. "Thanks, mom."

"Watcha doing over here, Dr. Shephard?

"Hey," he greets me, pulling me down on the floor with him and Will, plus Lily. "We're just checking out the presents, aren't we buddy?"

I pull Will into my lap, smoothing his hair and placing a kiss on the top of his soft head. "One year old… how'd that happen? How'd you get so old?" I joke with him. He glances up at me, a rare sign that he knows we're actually talking to him.

Jack works at the impenetrable packaging on the fire truck. "How the hell are you supposed to open this thing?" he grunts, finally resorting to his pocket knife. "It's more than child-proof…"

"It's adult man, doctor-with-several-degrees-proof?"

He rolls his eyes and dramatically rips the plastic apart, handing the freed truck to Will.

"You know, sometimes I think it would be easier if you were still in that coma. You wouldn't talk back so much," he says with a straight face, not daring to flinch even though I know he's kidding.

That's when you know it's been awhile since you've been in a coma—people start to joke about it, and I'm no longer offended. "Very funny, Jack, but if that were true then you wouldn't have this little guy."

"Ahh, guess you have a point." He crawls over to us and lifts Will's shirt up, blowing a raspberry on his stomach—one of Will's favorite things ever. It's strange that such a young person can have a personality, but he does. He's more like Jack. He doesn't overwhelm us with laughter, but when he chooses to laugh, it's well worth the wait.

Will giggles and squirms in my lap, and Jack stops his attack, planting a kiss on my lips. "This was great," he says sweetly, motioning to the scene of the party. "I'm sorry I couldn't help out more with it."

I wave him off. "That's okay."

Okay, so sometimes it would be nice to have a little more help from Jack, but I really don't have anything to complain about. My life is great. I have a husband and son who I love more than anyone else in the world, and some days I can feel so much love coming back from them that's it's sort of overwhelming. How did I end up so lucky? Two years ago, I'd never have thought I'd be where I am now. It was impossible to imagine a life that wasn't chaotic and filled with awkwardness.

"So, how would you sum up these past two years?" Jack asks me. Sometimes I swear he can read my mind.

"Umm," I start, wondering if it's possible to reiterate these years out loud. "Frustrating, overwhelming, chaotic, awkward, painful…"

Jack looks unsure of where I'm going with this. "Really?"

"But you didn't let me finish," I smile, wrapping an arm around his waist as we collect the trash from around the room, Will playing happily with his fire truck. "It's also been amazing, and I've been blessed, and I got to fall in love again, and we had Will…"

And I can say all this, because I have all my memories, and I can compare my life now to my life before the accident. At times, when I was struggling with my relationship with Jack and remembering four years of my life, it was impossible to imagine that anything would ever be okay again.

"So not so bad after all, huh?"

"No," I say, leaning up to give him a kiss. "Not so bad at all."


End file.
